


Let Someone See Right Through You

by RubyLipsStarryEyes



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hogwarts, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Light Angst, Pining, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Romantic Fluff, Secret Crush, Song: Everything I Wanted (Billie Eilish), Song: I Love You (Billie Eilish), Unforgivable Curses (Harry Potter), song: Watching You (Robinson)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:08:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 20,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27320218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RubyLipsStarryEyes/pseuds/RubyLipsStarryEyes
Summary: Pansy is hopelessly in love with The General. But he's out of reach... Isn't he?
Relationships: Hannah Abbott/Neville Longbottom, Millicent Bulstrode & Pansy Parkinson, Millicent Bulstrode/Charlie Weasley, Neville Longbottom & Luna Lovegood, Neville Longbottom & Millicent Bulstrode, Neville Longbottom/Pansy Parkinson
Comments: 163
Kudos: 59
Collections: Paneville





	1. Watching You

**Author's Note:**

> So much thanks to GCGrayWriter for setting up this fest and for converting me to the Paneville Ship!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Dishes

Pansy stared at the man across the Great Hall. Even with his back to her, he was unmistakable. He was The General. The Serpent Slayer. The Hero of the Wizarding World. Well… One of them, at least. And despite never speaking so much as a word to the man, Pansy was hopelessly in love with him. 

Draco would have been appalled. So would Daphne, but neither of them were here. Millicent, Theo, Blaise, and herself were all that were left of the Slytherins, and she still wasn’t completely sure where she stood with any of them. She’d never felt so alone, surrounded by so many people. Even last year, with the Carrow’s reign of terror, she’d had Draco and Daphne. At home she had Rowan. Here, now… She had no one. 

Pansy looked sharply away, straightening the plate in front of her, mulling over her schedule for the coming day. She had charms, herbology, and astronomy to prepare for, and she mentally ran through the assignments that would be due. She was reaching for her bag to check one last reference for her herbology essay when a loud crash sounded across the hall. She, like most of the older students that had been present for the battle, responded with a raised wand. 

McGonagall was already on her feet at the head table, all the professors likewise standing, their wands raised. “Settle down, ladies and gentlemen. It was only Peeves dropping dishes. All is well.” Her voice rang out over the hall, and Pansy slowly lowered her wand, her heart pounding in her ears. 

_ Just dishes. Just dishes.  _

The group of eighth years, mostly Gryffindors but with a few Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws intermingled that sat at the end of the Gryffindor table were likewise glancing around the room, looking for a threat that wouldn’t appear. Several of their eyes lingered distrustfully on the Slytherin table… including those of Neville Longbottom. Pansy’s breath caught; she couldn’t see the color of his eyes from here, but she knew up close they were hazel. 

Pansy gripped her wand tighter, and dropped her eyes back to the table. He’d had his arm thrown out, as if shielding the girl next to him…. A girl with big blue eyes and waist-length blond hair. Luna Lovegood was nearly always at his side, and she supposed had she been lucky enough to capture the attentions of Neville Longbottom, she’d glue herself to his side too. Any appetite she’d had vanished with the spike of panic, and she shoved the plate roughly aside, standing and striding from the hall. 

She didn’t stop until she reached the charms classroom. It was empty, and she breathed a sigh of relief, taking a seat on the far side, with her back to the cool stone wall. She closed her eyes for a moment, willing her heart to slow.  _ It was just the damn poltergeist. Just dishes. Nothing more.  _

She heard the hinges of the door creak as it was opened, and her eyes snapped open, glaring at whoever it was that dared come to class nearly half an hour early. Her glare fell on none other than The General himself. 

Neville Longbottom stood with his palms flat against the door, head bowed, nearly brushing the aged wood with his forehead. His shoulders were rounded, and he looked…  _ defeated.  _ But even as she watched, he took a deep breath in, squared his shoulders, lifted his head and dropped his hands. When he turned, he seemed surprised to see her, but not displeased. Rather, he looked indifferent. 

It was a far cry from what she wanted, but an even farther cry from what she’d expected. She supposed she’d take indifference over the sheer, vitriolic hatred that she got from the others. 

He didn’t say a word, just chose a seat nearly directly across from her, his back against the opposite wall. He took out his textbook, and without another glance in her direction, began to read. Pansy forced herself to do the same, refusing to look at him and reveal her deepest secret. 

It was going to be a long half hour… and an even longer year. 


	2. Rather Have Nothing At All

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neville only wanted some quiet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Luck

Neville had never had what one could call good luck. Quite honestly, he thought he had bloody awful luck. Which probably accounted for the fact that when he hid in the classroom that  _ should  _ have been empty for another half hour, he found it already occupied. By none other than Pansy Parkinson, of all people. He’d resigned himself to never having a moment to himself after the first week, and now he wasn’t even upset— just… Tired. 

Tired of eyes being on him at all times; people waiting on him to do something extraordinary. The truth was that what he’d done during the battle hadn’t been extraordinary. It had been necessary— nothing more. And now he couldn’t even get through a meal without some wide-eyed kid watching him as he ate. It was  _ exhausting,  _ and he’d much rather revert to the one everyone overlooked, but it seemed that he would have no such luck.

So when he turned, and found heavily guarded eyes narrowed at him, he wasn’t upset.  _ Just my luck,  _ he thought. He acquiesced to the reality that it was likely, in a castle full of people, that he would likely always have eyes on him. So he took a seat where he could watch the door, and extracted his textbook. He opened it as if to read, listening carefully for any indication that the obnoxious girl across from him was going to spoil the silence.  _ Please don’t. Please don’t. For love of Merlin and Morgana please don’t say anything. _

To his surprise, Pansy didn’t say a word. After a while, he heard pages turn periodically, and he glanced up to find her studiously absorbed in her own book. Her hair hung down in dark curtains around her face, and he realized with a start that it was much longer than he’d thought. It wasn’t in the blunt, chin length bob she’d kept for most of their school years. Now it would be past her collarbone, had she been sitting up straight, and the morning light reflected off the soft waves...  _ Like the surface of the Black Lake _ . 

Returning his eyes to the text, he tried to remember when he’d last heard her speak up in class, or her laugh cut through the chatter of the great hall. He couldn’t recall. He did, however, remember what she’d looked like crying under the wand of Amycus Carrow the previous year after she’d stepped up to defend a first year from the Death Eater. 

He’d never really liked her, but then he’d never really known her, either. The memory tugged at something deep inside him, and he wondered for the first time if she’d been the way she was for the same reasons he had. Maybe her luck wasn’t any better than his, and her actions had been borne of necessity as much as his own had. 

He was still mulling this over when the rest of the charms NEWT students began to filter in. Luna took the seat beside him as usual, and he shut his book, looking around. Hermione took the seat on Luna’s other side, and they fell into quiet conversation, leaving Neville to his thoughts. He noted the bubble of empty seats around Pansy, and began to wonder,  _ who really is this girl? _

Neville kept his head down in class as he always had, but his eyes kept straying to the Slytherin across the room. She worked diligently, mastering the charm with apparent ease, neat chalk writing appearing on the blackboard that lay flat on her desk. Hermione likewise mastered it quickly, but it took Neville a bit longer. By the end of class though, he was pleased with the results he’d gotten. 

Cleaning off the whiteboard with another tap of his wand, he looked up to see Pansy looking absolutely panic-stricken, erasing her blackboard with a sharp jab of her own wand. Neville wondered what could have been so horrible to leave the normally unflappable girl so alarmed, and his curiosity only grew when she looked up, meeting his eyes across the crowded room. She looked terrified, and Neville felt a whisper of concern for her. 

The bell rang, and she didn’t even wait for Flitwick’s dismissal, just darted into the corridor without looking back.  _ What had her so spooked? _


	3. Everybody Knows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pansy's secret is out-- or is it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Autumn Leaves

Pansy felt sick.  _ He knew.  _ And she’d been careless enough to let him invade her thoughts during class. It had been his name to appear in damning white chalk. 

She’d erased it as soon as she’d realized, and looked up to find his attention on her. His hazel eyes bore into her even from a distance, and it had only gotten worse when Lovegood had followed his gaze, cocking her head curiously at Pansy. She’d subsequently fled at the earliest opportunity. There was a free period before Herbology, and she just wanted as much space between her and the man as possible. 

Tearing through the corridors, she burst through the doors and onto the grounds, heading for a knot of oak trees that stood a few hundred feet from the edge of the Black Lake. She couldn’t count the times she and Daphne had sought solitude in the small grove of trees, and now it was in the height of autumnal beauty, the leaves turning brilliant shades of red that faded in orange even as they fell. She’d been relieved to find that the grove had been virtually untouched by the war, providing her with a small sanctuary within the school that held some of her best and worst memories. There she could breathe. 

She spent the next several minutes calming herself, attempting to convince her mind that nobody had seen the evidence of her infatuation. But that  _ look  _ his girlfriend had given her… She would know, she’d given that look to any one of a number of girls that spent just a touch too long looking in Draco’s direction, once upon a time. 

“Parkinson,” a sharp voice barked, and she stood straighter, looking for the intruder in her solitude. 

“Bulstrode?” She eyed the other Slytherin girl warily. They’d shared a dorm for years, but had never been close friends; Pansy got the impression that Millie had little patience for the gossip and beauty charms and regimens she and Daphne had thrived on. 

Millie held up a charms textbook. “You forgot this. Neville asked me to bring it to you.” Pansy blinked rapidly, confused. 

“Thanks,” she offered hesitantly, teaching for the book. Millie held it just out of her reach though, her dark eyes scrutinizing. 

“He asked if you were okay. I didn’t know, so I said you were fine. Did I just lie to him?” 

“Since when are you on first name terms with Longbottom,” Pansy snapped, lunging for the book. Millie held it out of her reach easily, unperturbed by Pansy’s waspish avoidance. 

“Since I spent three months working with him on the rebuild. There’s only so many times you can get covered in stink sap together before given names are inevitable.” She raised an eyebrow. “So? Did I just lie to him for nothing or are you going to tell me why you sprinted out of there faster than a scared kneazle?” 

“I didn’t—“ 

“Don’t insult my intelligence, Parkinson.” 

Pansy glared at her, and turned sharply away, crossing her arms tightly. 

“Alright. Then I’ll go let him know you fancy his pants off but are too stubborn to do anything about it, and you can get your book from him.” Pansy whirled on Millie, her wand drawn. Millie just smirked, staring down her wand back at her. She hadn’t moved. “I knew it.” 

Pansy felt the blood drain from her face. She’d just played right into Millie’s hand, and shown her cards. 

“Bulstrode—“

“Millie,” she interrupted. “If you’re going to win over Longbottom, you’ll need some backup. And my friends call me Millie.” 

Pansy lowered her wand slowly, digesting her words. She recognized an olive branch when she saw one, but…. “What’s in it for you?” Pansy eyed her distrustfully, waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

“You’re not the only one whose friends didn’t come back. I get on well enough with Neville and Susan, but it’s bloody awful being the only Slytherin in the common room with you hiding away all the time. Theo doesn’t exactly grasp the importance of social interaction and Zabini is too busy chasing that Ravenclaw to be of any use.” Millie shrugged carelessly, but Pansy recognized the bravado. Millie was as lonely as she was. 

Pansy blinked again. Well that was unexpected, and yet still awfully Slytherin of her. Maybe Pansy had underestimated the girl all these years. “Alright… Millie.” 

Millie gave her a bright smile, the unexpected warmth transforming her face. Pansy hasn’t ever thought her to be traditionally pretty, but she was coming to find that she’d been wrong about a lot when it came to Millicent Bulstrode. Against the backdrop of autumn leaves, her brown eyes sparkled mischievously, and Pansy smiled —truly smiled— for the first time in a  _ long  _ time. 


	4. I Don't Sleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neville and Pansy have a conversation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: New Places

Neville wasn’t naive enough to think he knew everything there was to know about the Hogwarts castle. But he hadn’t expected to be led to a new common room and all new dorms for the 8th years. All four houses were combined, but he was relieved to find that they no longer had to share rooms. Each of them had a personal room with a shared bathroom with the room next to theirs. 

Neville supposed as far as roommates could go, his wasn’t too bad. He shared with Oliver Rivers, a half blood Ravenclaw he didn’t know well, but liked well enough. Then, it was significantly less dramatic on the boys’ side than the girls. The biggest complaint was from Blaise Zabini that Ernie McMillan hogged the mirror while doing his hair in the morning. Meanwhile from the girls’ he heard first hand that there had been some issues at the start of term for the girls. Hermione had initially shared with Lisa Turpin, but Hannah Abbott had refused to share with Pansy, and a shuffling had occurred. As he understood it, Hermione was now sharing with Millie, and Pansy was paired with Susan Bones. Hannah had been placed with Parvati Patil, and they seemed to get on well enough. 

The real test though, came when they all had to share a single common room. Most of the houses congregated together as they had in the past, but after two months, they were getting more comfortable in branching out. For instance, the last week in October found Neville sandwiched on a sofa between Ernie and Millie, as Millie argued with Padma Patil and Ernie needled Hermione and Anthony Goldstien about some arithmancy project. 

Already on edge from a long day and months without a proper nights’ rest, Neville excused himself, slipping towards the French doors that led to a small balcony overlooking the lake. The evening air was bitingly chilly, but he appreciated the opportunity to step outside sometimes. Unfortunately, it appeared that he was encroaching on someone’s moment of peace away from their classmates. 

“Oh. Er… Sorry. I didn’t know anyone was out here.” Pansy turned in her chair with an eyebrow raised. 

“I don’t own the space. You’ve got every right to it as I have.” She turned back to look over the battlement, facing resolutely away from him. 

“I just mean if you wanted to be alone I’ll go,” he tried again, shoving his hands in his pockets. 

“It’s alright,” she said so softly he almost wondered if he’d imagined it. But she flicked her wand, and a second chair slid forward out of the darkness. He weighed his options for a moment, but ultimately took the seat beside her. 

He did his best to keep his eyes on the lake, but the waxing moon illuminated her features in a way he couldn’t ignore. She looked so… delicate, despite the fact that he knew she had a razor sharp tongue and the wit to match. It had been over two weeks since the day in the charms classroom, and he’d been noticing her more and more. 

She was different, since the war. They all were, really, but she seemed especially affected. He couldn’t quite put a finger on what had changed, but he found himself intrigued by her. Scarcely a day went by without him noting something new about her that he hadn't known before. And sitting here beside her, the moon glancing off her porcelain skin… 

She rubbed at her eyes, and pulled her cloak tighter around herself, drawing him from his thoughts. Whispering a warming charm over the balcony, he saw her relax out of the corner of his eye. 

“Alright?” He hoped it came out nonchalantly, but he never had been great at masking his emotions. 

“Just tired.” She rubbed at her eyes again. “Has it been as hard for you to adjust? The wind has been keeping me up… I miss the lake.” 

Neville considered for a moment. He  _ hadn’t  _ been sleeping well, but he’d contributed it more to the war than to sleeping in a new place. “Actually it’s not as windy down here as it was in Gryffindor tower. I think the lack of noise has been throwing me off… I don’t miss Ron and Seamus’s snoring, though.” 

Pansy huffed a short laugh, and Neville was fairly certain it was the first laugh he’d heard from her since sixth year, and even then it wasn’t her normal shriek. It was just a chuckle, a rush of air. 

“Daph talked in her sleep. I kinda miss that. Or maybe I just miss her. I’m not really sure.” Her voice was soft; melancholia practically dripped off of her, and Neville was entranced. He leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his thighs to allow himself a better look at her. She looked pale, washed out in the moonlight, but he forgot how to breathe for a moment. 

Dropping his eyes to the flagstones, he asked, “How is she? I saw the engagement announcement in the Prophet a while back.” Daphne Greengrass had gotten engaged to a pureblooded businessman from Denmark back in September. Or was it Germany? He couldn’t remember which. 

“She’s eating it up. All she ever wanted.” Neville thought he heard a hint of bitterness in her voice, but she shook her head, and her hair shaded her face. 

Neville was fairly certain this was the first time he’d ever had a conversation with her, and it wasn’t at all what he’d expected. But it was also evidently over, because she stood abruptly, and with an “excuse me,” that could have only been a leftover reflex from her pureblood, high society upbringing, left him alone. He couldn’t help staring after her, confused as to what he possibly could have said wrong to make her flee. 

He shook his head, and sat back, looking back out over the lake. It was quiet here, without the wind whipping around the unprotected tower. If she was right, and the new surroundings was what was making it so difficult for him to sleep, he’d owe her one. 


	5. Too Tired to Pretend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pansy is tired. So, apparently, is Neville.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Full Moon

Pansy was irritated. That was not how her first conversation with him was supposed to go. She was supposed to be mysterious and charming, not sleep deprived and melancholic. But it had spilled out unbidden when he’d come out and caught her off guard by actually sitting with her, instead of turning tail at the sight of her like everyone else. The isolated solitude was partially why she’d taken up that spot. It was quiet, people left her alone, and she’d been telling the truth; She missed the calming influence of the lake. 

But it was the next night, and here they were again, sitting in near-companionable silence. When the French doors had creaked open again, her heart had jolted hopefully, and she’d felt a pleasurable rush when he hadn’t said a word, just taken up the same chair he had the night before. 

If Millie hadn’t sworn up and down through almost all of Potions that day that she’d had nothing to do with it the previous night, that she hadn’t even known where he was going, Pansy would have said he’d been put up to it. But here he was again. And this time he stretched out his long legs, crossing them at the ankles. It looked as if he was settling in for a while. He whispered another charm, and warmth washed over her. 

She wondered for a moment if she should say something, thank him for his thoughtfulness or ask him why he was hiding from his many admirers, but she glanced over at him, and he looked… content, perhaps. So she let him be.

When she could see his watch face reading past ten, she stood slowly, in sharp contrast to the night before. “Goodnight,” she whispered, feeling as if her voice was breaking whatever enchantment had offered her some modicum of the unfamiliar feeling of…  _ peace.  _ Even her irritation at herself and her torrent of emotions regarding the untouchable force beside her quieted with his stoic presence. 

“Sleep well.” His eyes landed on her, but in the moonlight they were unreadable. She let her guard down just enough to give him a wry smile. 

“Not likely, but you too.” She didn’t wait for an answer, just slipped into the still-mostly full common room. 

The next several nights were the same. He joined her without a word, and the warming charm washed over her. The night before Halloween, the moon was completely full, and it illuminated his face in silvery light. The previous nights she’d shied away from looking too closely at him, but she couldn’t help it. The moonlight highlighted the angles of his face; his straight nose and the cut of his jaw that appeared when his baby fat had melted away. She’d memorized his features, but here, up close and bathed in soft silver light… He was striking in a way she couldn’t put into words. 

He caught her looking, and raised an eyebrow. She took the chance, and asked. “Why sit out here when your fan club is in there?” 

He looked surprised, a crease appearing momentarily between his eyebrows. “Because the fan club is in there.” He looked away, back out over the lake. She watched a myriad of expressions play out over his face, and waited for him to explain further. When he didn’t, she turned her attention back to the moon. She should have been doing her astronomy homework, but she hadn’t wanted to bring her homework and spoil whatever it was they were doing. 

“Why do you sit out here in the cold alone?” 

“Well for the past week there’s been this Gryffindor assuring that I’m neither cold nor alone, so I’m not sure I understand your question.” She turned a raised brow at him, and he smiled sheepishly. 

“Sorry if that was presumptive of me.” 

“If I was really averse, I can handle a  _ finite _ as well as anyone.” She gave him a small smile. “I keep warming charms on my cloak, but yours are better.” 

He nodded, cheeks flushing faintly. He opened his mouth as if he was going to say something, but snapped it shut again. When she looked away, words spilled from him in a rush. “You don’t stare at me like you’re waiting for me to do something amazing.” 

It took a moment for her to sort through what he said after it poured from his mouth, and she knew she looked confused, because he flushed a deeper shade of pink in the moonlight. 

“Ever since last year everyone watches me like I’m about to do something life altering. Hell, maybe you are waiting, but you at least hide it better than everyone else.” 

Pansy snorted. “I’m far too tired to pretend anymore, and you already saved the world. If they want more from you, they can shove it.” He looked shocked at her words, but shock faded into amusement. He began to laugh, the sound resonating from deep in his chest, deep and rich. Pansy could have sworn her heart swelled at his laugh, and she couldn’t have been more pleased that he’d thought she was funny. He laughed long and hard, doubling over and grabbing at a stitch in his side. 

She joined him, her shoulders shaking as she suppressed her laughter into silence. The idea of him telling a room full of people to shove it too absurd to truly contemplate without laughing along with him. 

“Stop moping and—“ Millie stopped in the doorway, backlit by the warm light of the common room. “Ooorrrrrr not.” She backed into the common room, shutting the door firmly with a smirk. 


	6. For What It's Worth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neville comes to a conclusion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Mulled Cider

Neville couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed so hard. And against all odds, it was with Pansy Parkinson. He only really came back to his senses when Millie made a brief appearance. Thankfully, she didn’t stick around, though he wasn’t completely sure if she’d been talking to him or Pansy. 

He and Millie had been tasked with assisting Pomona Spout with the greenhouses and gardens during the rebuild of the castle, and after a few weeks of working together, had ended up forming quite the unlikely friendship. Since returning for their final year, he’d been drawn to her for her no-nonsense attitude and because she, like Pansy, seemed to be unaffected by his newfound fame. Maybe it was a Slytherin thing. Or a high-society pureblood thing. Whatever it was, he’d been glad for her presence. 

When Pansy had fled the charms classroom, it had been Millie he’d approached, asking if she knew if her former dorm mate was well. She’d assured him Pansy was fine, and after that, he saw the pair together significantly more. He wasn’t about to ask, but he wondered if that day had changed something between the two. Whatever it was, the duo was nearly inseparable during classes, but Neville was intimidated by the two girls when they were together.

After Pansy said her usual goodnight though, Millie joined him on the balcony, cursing the cold. He renewed the warming charm, though Millie continued to huddle beneath her cloak. 

“You two are bloody mad if you keep this up,” she complained, and Neville shrugged. “At least bring her something warm to drink tomorrow. It’s supposed to be frightful. Cider, maybe?” Millie shot him a pointed look, and got up, complaining about the cold. She disappeared inside, and Neville lingered a bit longer, wondering how he’d gotten mixed up with two Slytherin girls that could probably hex him to the continent and back if they truly wanted. 

But the next evening after the Halloween feast, while the other eighth years made a general ruckus, Neville slipped out onto the balcony. Like all the nights before, Pansy sat alone, wrapped in her cloak, facing out over the lake. He cast the now-familiar warming spell nonverbally, and he saw the corner of her mouth curve up into a slight smile. 

There was something about that half-smile that made his heart race, and he steadied himself before offering her the cup with an insulating spell wrapped around it.    
  
“What’s this?” She narrowed her eyes at the cup in hand, its twin already raised to his lips. 

“Mulled cider. It sounded good and I thought you might like some too.” Neville wigged the cup gently, hoping it was enough to entice her to take it. She stared at it long and hard, but finally reached out and took the cup from him. 

“Thank you.” In the moonlight he could see the wary curiosity in her eyes, and he wondered what was behind the walls that she so carefully maintained. He took a sip of his own, and as he lowered the cup, he caught the look of rapturous bliss as she raised the cup to her lips. A sound that wasn’t quite a moan, but not a hum either escaped her, and Neville’s breath caught. She seemed so cool, collected, and distant, and yet something as simple as cider gave him a glimpse of what lay beneath that veneer of perfection. 

She opened her eyes, and Neville blushed. She’d caught him staring, but her cheeks darkened ever so slightly as well. He didn’t say anything, not wanting to ruin it. So he sat in his customary spot, and nursed his own cider until the clock ticked closer to ten. He was still trying to work up the nerve to say something witty or funny, or ask her to stay a bit longer when she stood and stretched with her customary soft, “goodnight.” He’d missed his chance. 

But a moment after the door shut, it opened again, and she poked her head back out into the cold night air. 

“For what it’s worth, mulled cider is my favorite, and it’s been a long time since anyone was so considerate. Thank you, Neville.” And then she was gone again, and Neville was left reeling. 

He stared at the door for a long moment, and came to the conclusion that Pansy Parkinson was not the girl he’d thought she was, and his new goal was to make those walls come down so he could find out who she  _ really  _ was. 


	7. Nobody Even Noticed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pansy gets a letter from her Aunt Penelope Nott. 
> 
> TW: referenced homophobia and violence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Bath

November dawned cold and bleak. Pansy supposed she should have expected it, but it didn’t make the reality any better. Nor did the fact that she still hadn’t slept more than an hour or two at a time since returning to the castle. Her nightly routine with Neville had helped some, but she’d also taken to nightly baths when her roommate Susan was off snogging her boyfriend in the back corner of the common room. What she saw in Terry Boot was beyond Pansy, but she appreciated the quiet from 10 to 11:30ish every night. 

If it wasn’t for her bath, she’d gladly stay with Neville until the witching hour, but as it stood, she thought less was more with the Gryffindor. She’d somehow managed not to insult or scare him away yet, and she was rather hoping to keep that up. In the two weeks since Halloween, he’d gotten more talkative, and it was almost infuriating how charming and naturally sweet he was. 

That particular night he’d asked her what she wanted to do after Hogwarts, and she’d floundered. She’d always assumed that she’d be married off to some rich pureblood like Daphne. 

She’d settled on a flippant, “oh I’ll find something worthwhile,” which may have been the wrong answer, because he’d grown quiet after that, scratching the fingernail of his left pointer finger over the outside seam of his trousers— a tic she’d realized mean he was thinking hard about something.

When she’d said goodnight, she wondered if she saw a flash of disappointment, but she couldn’t fathom why. Which is what she was now pondering, sunk up to her neck in fragrant bubbles. Her solitude was intruded upon by Millie (intrusion was Millie’s standard Modus Operandi), holding two letters. 

“Why is your Auntie Penelope writing you in the middle of the night?” 

“Better Penelope than Calliope,” Pansy muttered, taking the letter from her, as Millie perched on the edge of the tub. The other envelope was addressed to Millie in a bold, masculine hand that she didn’t recognize. Filing that bit of information away for later, she flicked open the letter and scanned down it, then, heart pounding, read it through once more. 

“Fuck.” She sprang up out of the water, Millie scowling as droplets of scented water and bubbles rained down on her legs and uniform skirt. She dried herself with a wave of her wand, pulling on a set of grey silk pyjamas and her dressing robe over the top. Racing down the hallway towards the boys’ rooms, the letter still in hand, she pounded on the door of Theo’s room. 

“Theo godsdamnit open the door!” She pounded again. “THEODORE PLUTO NOTT I SWEAR TO MERLIN IF YOU DON’T—“ 

“Stop your shrieking, witch. What do you want?” Theo’s voice came from behind her, and she turned to face Theo, hanging out of the very door that was causing this problem. 

“I want to know how stupid you have to be to pull this bullshit!” She gestured at the man that appeared behind him. “Your  _ mother,”  _ she spat, slapping him in the chest with the letter, “knows. Which means your  _ father _ will soon if he doesn’t already! Azkaban or not you think he won’t hesitate to strip you of your godsdamned title if he doesn’t kill you first?” She was still shrieking, and doors along the hall were opening. “You couldn’t wait for one more fucking year?” 

Theo paled visibly, and he rushed across the hall, pulling Pansy inside. Pansy got a glimpse of Neville’s shocked face from the door across the hall, and Millie’s grimace before Theo slammed the door, shutting them in. 

He snatched the letter, and Pansy sat on the edge of his bed, arms crossed, glaring at her cousin. He read through the letter several times over, and swallowed hard. “What do I do? Nobody was supposed to notice! Nobody ever noticed anything I did!” 

“We’re Slytherins and you’re the son of a convicted Death Eater! You really think everything we do isn’t being watched? You are not this thick, Theo!”

“Then I suppose now is a good time to bring up how you’ve been watching Longbottom like a love sick crup! I’m not the only one that’s noticed that, either! What have you been doing out on that balcony every night? On your knees for him like you were for Draco?” 

Over their yelling, neither of them had noticed the door opening, and the curious eyes of Millie, Oliver, and Neville. At least until Neville stepped forward. 

“Hey!” His deeper voice cut through Theo’s, and Pansy looked around, horrified. Millie was trying to pull the door shut, but Neville was stronger, and  _ angry.  _ “How dare you, Nott?” 

“Neville don’t-“ Millie tried, but Oliver cut her off. 

“Stay out of it, Bulstrode!” 

“Get out,” Theo yelled, drawing his wand, and Pansy lunged at his wand, her own still in her room, forgotten in her haste. Theo’s hex went wide, but she was caught square in the stomach by one from Oliver. She saw Neville’s horror and heard Millie’s scream just as the world went black. 


	8. As Long As I'm Here (No One Can Hurt  You)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neville takes care of Pansy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Antidote

Millie’s scream barely registered as Neville watched Pansy hit the wall and drop to the floor. There were other yells and flashes of light, but he only cared about getting to Pansy, to make sure she was still alright. 

He crossed the room and dropped to his knees. “ _Rennervate_!” With his wand pointed at her chest, he reached up to check for a pulse and her breathing. The spell didn’t have any effect, but she was breathing, and her pulse was strong and steady, if not too fast. Looking back, he could see Harry and Ron had tight hold of Oliver in the hallway, and Ernie and Terry had Theo’s arms pinned to his side. Susan and Hermione were pulling Millie out into the hallway, and someone was yelling for a professor. 

Afraid to move her, Neville resorted to brushing her hair out of her face with shaking hands. He kept up a steady rhythm, trying to breathe slowly through his nose. The smell of cherries and violets was stronger when he did, and he focused on the sweet scent that was all hers.

Thank Merlin, Pomona Sprout and Charlie Weasley, the new Care of Magical Creatures professor, were the first ones through the door. Charlie immediately started barking directions, and Sprout dropped to her knees beside Neville. 

“ _ Rennervate _ didn’t work but she’s breathing and her pulse is strong,” he told her, and she nodded, casting some diagnostic charms over Pansy, and attempted the resuscitation spell herself. Finally, she shook her head. 

“I don’t know why  _ rennervate _ isn’t working. Take her up to Poppy, she’ll sort her out. Stay with her, we’ll come to you.” She squeezed his hand comfortingly, and climbed to her feet with a groan, next going to where Ernie and Terry were still holding Theo in death grips. 

Neville didn’t waste another second, just scooped Pansy into his arms and rushed through the eighth year’s quarters. He saw the gaping mouths of several of his classmates, but he ignored them. He didn’t slow, climbing the three floors to the hospital wing in record time all while whispering a litany over Pansy’s limp form. " _I've got you. I've got you."_

When he burst into the hospital wing, he was relieved to find Madame Pomfrey administering a love potion antidote to a fourth year Ravenclaw, but she looked up and shoved the bottle at the boy and met Neville halfway, flicking her wand to prepare a bed. Neville set her down as gently as possible, then stepped back to allow Poppy room to work, all while explaining what had happened as quickly as possible. 

She did the same as Professor Sprout had done; casting diagnostic spells and attempting  _ rennervate _ herself. 

“Why isn’t it working,” Neville finally asked, rather more forcefully than he’d meant. 

Madame Pomfrey didn’t even blink at his outburst. “Her body and mind are under an immense amount of stress, probably due to last year’s events, her studies, and who knows what else.” She looked at him, her eyes softening. “I think she just needs time. We’ll keep a close eye on her, let her rest, and I think she’ll be fine. But only time will tell, dear.” 

She pointed to the next bed over. “You don’t look like you’re faring much better than Miss Parkinson. Once Minerva, Horace, and Septima are through with you, I’m insisting you stay here with a dreamless sleep drought.” 

“I’m fine,” Neville insisted, but Madame Pomfrey held up a hand to silence him. 

“You’re as pale as a ghost and shaking. Don’t try me, Mr Longbottom.” It was only once she pointed it out that he realized he was indeed shaking; his hands trembled and his thighs burned from running up the stairs without stopping. “Sit.” 

He did as he was told, sitting in the chair beside her bed, burying his face in his hands as she returned to the love-potion-poisoned Ravenclaw. 

Looking over her still form, he reached for her hand. It felt wrong not to, and he wanted her to know he was there, and she was safe. He swiped his thumb over the cuff of her silk pyjamas, thinking the grey would suit her much better if she wasn’t so deathly pale. He wasn’t sure how the evening had gone from laughing over her witty observations of their classmates to her in a hospital bed, but was fairly certain that he’d punch Rivers or Nott square in the jaw if he saw them anytime soon. 

Thankfully the two students were nowhere to be seen when Sprout showed up half an hour later with the headmistress and other Heads of Houses in tow. 

“Professor Weasley will be up shortly with Miss Bulstrode, she kindly offered to collect some of Ms Parkinson’s effects for her before coming up for a calming drought,” Sprout announced. “Until then, would you please share what happened?” 

Neville nodded, exhaustion having taken root deep within him as the adrenaline faded. He recounted the evening’s events, starting with their evening routine on the balcony. He’d just finished when Millie and Charlie entered the hospital wing, Millie sporting a stony expression, and Charlie watching her warily, like she was one of his ill-tempered dragons and he didn’t know where she’d strike next. 

She stopped next to Pansy’s bed, arching an eyebrow at their clasped hands. “Took you bloody well long enough, didn’t it?” She set the bundle she’d been carrying down on the side table, and stalked off towards Madame Pomfrey’s office, Charlie trailing rather dazedly after her at McGonagall’s flicked wrist. 

“Well. I daresay that’s enough.” McGonagall nodded toward the bed behind him, which had at some point been turned down, a fresh set of blue and white hospital pyjamas waiting, folded neatly on the pillow. 

“But--” He stopped, looking down at her still form. “What now?” 

She gave him a steady, appraising look, and someone-- Probably Pomona, he registered distantly-- squeezed his arm. “Mr Longbottom I suggest you get some sleep. Everything else can and will be addressed tomorrow.” McGonagall had the look that strongly suggested not to argue with her, and he clenched his jaw. 

“Go on, dear. I’ll stay with her until you’re dressed.” It was Sprout at his elbow, and he’d never been so grateful for his mentor than he was in that moment. He nodded again, numbness setting into his bones as he pulled the curtains closed around him. He could hear gentle murmurs from the professors, but they faded, and when he emerged, only Pomona remained. 

“Get some rest, and I better not see you in my classroom in the morning,” she warned. When he opened his mouth to object, she waved him off. “You could teach the damn class, Neville. Besides, I think you’ll find you’re needed here.” She inclined her head towards Pansy, and patted his arm again. “Sleep well.” 

She bustled from the ward, and Neville sat back in the chair, knowing that Pomfrey would be back shortly to force him to bed. He leaned closer, brushing her hair from her forehead, wishing he’d had the courage to tell her how much he’d come to like her before… Before.

“I’ll stay as long as you’ll have me. I promise you’ll be safe here,” he whispered, hoping with everything he had that she could hear him.


	9. Yesterday (Was A Year Ago)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pansy wakes up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Ribbon

Pansy’s head pounded, and the light that poured in was far too bright. She missed the gentle glow of the sun filtering through the lake. Gingerly covering her eyes with her elbow, she cursed whatever it was that she’d had to drink last night. 

Except she hadn’t touched alcohol in months. She couldn’t allow herself to lose any modicum of control… 

Memories flooded back, and she sat up, gasping. The room swam, and her stomach turned from the sudden movement, but a moment later she steadied, and she looked around, to find she wasn’t alone. Neville lay sleeping in the bed next to hers, and her heart dropped. Had he been hurt? What had happened? A whimper escaped her throat as she tried to look for any injuries. He was in hospital pyjamas, and he appeared to be whole… but Pansy knew appearances could be deceiving. 

“He’s alright,” a soft voice came from behind her, and she jerked around, her heart thundering in her chest. The room swam again, but this time she was able to focus on one thing: 

Neville’s girlfriend stood at the end of her bed, light from the far window illuminating her like some kind of angel. Her blonde hair was plaited with a blue satin ribbon matching her house crest, and her lighter blue eyes were trained on Pansy. She cocked her head. “Or are you just not feeling well? You look rather pale.” 

Pansy did indeed feel ill, but she wasn’t sure if it was the effects of the previous night or the guilt she felt over putting Neville in harm’s way. Either way, it didn’t matter, and the contents of her stomach were making a bid for escape. She pressed a hand to her mouth, squeezed her eyes shut against the bright light, and willed her stomach to settle, but it wasn’t enough. She doubled over, and a basin was pressed into her hands. 

Pansy heaved again and again, though nothing came up. She supposed there wasn’t anything to come up, she hadn’t eaten anything since lunch the day before. She hadn’t been hungry at dinner, watching Neville and Luna driving away any appetite she might have had, and Millie had been missing, not there to badger her into eating. 

Soft fingers pulled her hair out of her face, and she squeezed her eyes shut even harder, breaths coming in shaky gasps. Tears leaked out from beneath her lids, and wiped them away impatiently. 

“Here, drink this.” 

Pansy cracked her eyes open to find Luna offering her a glass of water, and she took it gratefully. She took a sip, and brought her knees up to her chest. 

“If he’s okay why is he here,” Pansy croaked, wishing the other girl was someone else.  _ Anyone  _ else. 

“He wouldn’t leave you until he was sure you were okay.” Luna was still combing her fingers through Pansy’s hair, and she distantly registered she was braiding it, keeping out of Pansy’s face. “I came up to give him notes from Charms Hermione wrote for him yesterday after dinner. I was here for a while, but he didn’t say much. I’ve never seen him so worried.” 

Pansy digested her words slowly, a million questions coming to mind. She started with the easier of the two most pressing. “We didn’t have charms yesterday… unless…” 

“It’s Friday.” Luna answered her unasked question, and Pansy’s head spun. She’d received the letter from Aunt Penelope on Wednesday. Her stomach cramped again, but thankfully the small amount of water she’d drunk stayed down. 

“Why are you being so nice to me?” 

Luna’s fingers didn’t still, and she answered without missing a beat. “Neville fancies you. And I think you could use a friend right now.” 

“But I— you—“ Pansy fought back more tears. She couldn’t be saying her boyfriend fancied Pansy and she was fine with it. “I swear I didn’t— we just talk and he—“

“I’ve been telling him you fancy him too, but I think he’s afraid of making a mistake.” 

Pansy couldn’t comprehend how she ended up in such a ludicrous position, but she supposed it was par for the course. At this point she was just waiting for the Ravenclaw to kill her and make it look like an accident. She eyed the glass of water in her hand warily, but if Luna wanted her dead, it was already too late.

“I don’t understand,” she finally admitted, and Luna stayed quiet, finishing the end of the plait. 

“He doesn’t want to hurt you,” she said, and patted Pansy’s shoulder. “I’m off to breakfast. Tell him hello when he wakes up, would you?” Pansy twisted to ask her another question, but she was already skipping down the ward, her hair hanging loose to her waist. 

Pansy reached up, and ran her fingers along the edges of the braid. Bringing the tail forward, she blinked at the bow tied neatly with the same blue ribbon that had graced Luna’s hair. Pansy’s head ached, and she was far too tired to try to understand the odd witch. Looking back to Neville, fresh tears welled in her eyes. 

_ He wouldn’t leave her.  _


	10. It Must Have Been (A Nightmare)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neville wakes up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Nightmare (Bettcha didn't see that one coming)

_ Pansy hit the wall, and dropped to the floor, her eyes open and blank, unseeing.  _

_ Neville felt as if his chest was being ripped open, and he hit his knees, reaching for Pansy’s lifeless body.  _

A soft hand wrapped around his, and the scent of cherries and violets filled his nose. His eyes flew open, and he wondered for a moment if he was still dreaming. 

“Pansy?” 

“I think you were having a nightmare,” she whispered, and Neville could have cried in relief. The real nightmare was over. _She was okay._

“You’re awake,” he breathed, reaching up to cup her cheek with the hand she didn’t hold. She looked surprised, but didn’t shy away from his touch. “How do you feel?” 

“A bit better than a minute ago,” she admitted, closing her eyes. He propped himself up on his elbow, and looked more closely at her. She was deathly pale, and her hair was tied back like he’d never seen it done before. A blue ribbon was threaded through her hair, and he reached up to touch it, still not convinced he wasn’t dreaming. 

“Luna was here when I woke up,” she said in a small voice, her lip quivering. 

Neville dropped his hand, fighting against the bedclothes to sit up properly. “What did she say? Please don’t cry.“

“I swear I didn’t mean—- I didn’t want—“ Pansy looked to be on the verge of tears, something Neville hadn’t ever thought he’d see again, and he couldn’t fathom what could have her in such a state.

“You should go find Luna,” she finally said, moving away from him to climb back into her bed.

“Luna can wait,” he protested, throwing the covers back and sitting on the edge of the bed. “Are you okay? Can I get you--” 

“Please don’t.” Her voice quavered, and she rolled to face away from him. He stared at the back of her head, the blue ribbon contrasting starkly against her shiny raven hair. His stomach was in knots, and he was still watching her breathe when Madame Pomfrey came around. 

“Well Mr Longbottom, she’s awake and relatively well. I see no reason for you to remain any longer. Off with you!” With Pansy still pretending he didn’t exist, he saw no reason to argue, and dressed slowly, some flicker of hope whispering she might ask him to stay, or wait, or…  _ something.  _

But his hope was extinguished as he left the ward a while later, and Pansy still resolutely faced the other direction. He found Millie on the first floor, combing her fingers through her hair and looking irritated at something, but he couldn’t find it within himself to care what about. 

“She’s awake,” he told her bluntly, and turned away, but she caught up with him two steps later. 

  
  
“And?”

“And she won’t talk to me.” 

“How hard did you try?” Millie pulled him to a stop, and he glared at her. She was unfazed by his snappy reply, giving him a pointed look that clearly said “Well?” 

“I’m not very well going to prattle on at her back if she doesn’t want to hear it, now am I?” Neville was surprised at himself for the force with which it exploded out of him. The last thirty-six hours had been a nightmare, and his normally even temper may have been on a short fuse, but he rarely snapped at anyone like that. 

“She just woke up, she’s probably disconcerted and embarrassed,” Millie told him calmly, flipping her hair back over her shoulder. “Theo called her a slag and outed her feelings for you in front of several people, including you. Pansy is loud, but incredibly private. If it had been the other way around, are you saying you’d be fine with your secrets being broadcast like the evening news?”

Neville digested that for a moment, and realized she was probably correct. That must have been it. “Then why did she tell me to go find Luna?” 

Millie rolled her eyes. “I’m observant, not a bloody Seer. Go find Lovegood and ask her yourself.” With that, she stalked off, leaving Neville standing alone, with several first year Hufflepuffs staring at him with wide eyes. Disgruntled, he stormed off in the opposite direction Millie had gone, determined to find Luna before he had to be in transfiguration. 


	11. Standing Right There

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Millie sets Pansy straight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Rain

Pansy heard Neville leave, and then felt a gentle hand on her shoulder. 

  
  
“He means well.” Pansy could only nod, tears falling free and sliding down into her hair. She knew he did, and perhaps that was the problem. He was too good, and somehow she’d brought herself between two extraordinarily kind people. 

“Up you get, dear, let’s look you over.” Madame Pomfrey was being much more gentle with Pansy than she thought was strictly normal for the matron, at least until she sat up and heaved again. Several diagnostic charms, an antiemetic solution and a damp flannel later, Pansy was back under the covers with a diagnosis of a concussion, and an apology from Madame Pomfrey that it would be a day or so before she could get her the potion that would heal the damage and set her to rights. 

She pulled the covers up over her head to block out the light, and was actively bemoaning her existence and wishing she hadn’t woken up when someone sat on the edge of the bed. 

“I’m bloody well never going to get laid in this place,” Millie huffed without preamble. “I haven’t gotten more than half a decent snog since term started, and I swear to Merlin and Morgana I’m going to drag him out of here next Hogsmead weekend by his fucking hair if I have to. As much as I love the cutesy notes, I have needs.” 

Pansy was fuzzy on the details, but she was relatively certain she’d missed something. The pounding in her head, however, kept her from asking. “Shhh” she mumbled, and Millie clicked her tongue. 

“You can’t make me cry as easily as Neville, you know that, right?” 

Pansy jerked the covers down and immediately regretted it. The sky outside the window had darkened with stormclouds, but it was still bright enough to make her stomach turn and her head to pound even worse than it already was. “I didn’t make him cry,” Pansy spat, and Millie arched an eyebrow at her. “Did I?” Pansy whispered, horrified at the thought that she’d made the sweet man cry. 

“No, but he did yell at me, and that was a first. What did you do to him?” 

“I didn’t do anything,” Pansy moaned. “Except fall for someone that is perfect and taken by somebody else that is perfect for him, unlike me. She’s blonde and sweet and everything I’m not.” 

She pressed her arm over her eyes, but Millie’s silent laugh shook the bed, and Pansy peered out from under her arm to glare at her. 

“You idiot,” she gasped, holding her sides. “He’s not dating Abbott. That bitch has been chasing him like a damn niffler after a galleon but Neville can’t stand her.” 

  
  
“Abbott?” Pansy was thoroughly confused now. “No, Lovegood.” 

“Luna?” It was Millie’s turn to look confused. “Luna’s not dating Neville.” 

“Then why was she here this morning?”    
  


“She was here this morning?” 

“She was standing right there when I woke up! And then she braided my bloody hair!” Pansy gestured at her hair, still secured in the plait. 

“Yeah, about that… It really doesn’t suit you, darling.” Millie dodged the pillow Pansy threw at her, but shrugged. “I don’t know why she was here other than checking on Nev. They’re close, but they’re definitely not dating. Charlie said one of the Scamandars was asking about her over the summer, apparently she wrote him about something or another--”

“Charlie?” Pansy rubbed at her temples. “Who’s Charlie?”    


  
Millie stared at her. “How bloody hard did you hit your head? Charlie Weasley. My boyfriend. The Care of Magical Creatures professor.”    


  
Pansy yelped. “Okay no! You told me he was older, you didn’t tell me it was a Weasley, let alone  _ one of our bloody professors,”  _ Pansy hissed. 

Millie waved a hand arily. “Well now you know. And neither of us is taking his class, so technically he’s not our professor. Anyway, back to your problem. Is this why you thought Neville was off limits? Because good Godric if I’d known, I would have set you straight and then at least one of us would be getting shagged on the regular.” 

  
Pansy’s head was positively splitting, and she was having trouble comprehending the mountain of new information she’d just been given. “My head hurts,” she moaned, and Millie stood, picked up the pillow Pansy had thrown at her, and dropped it in Pansy’s lap.    
  


“Go back to sleep, and I’ll see what I can do about getting Neville back up here. Salazar’s tits if you weren’t so damned cagey this would be so much easier,” she muttered, and stalked out of the hospital wing. Pansy watched her go, and distantly thought that she should have befriended the girl  _ years  _ ago.    
  


Rain began to hit the window as she repositioned the pillow, and she closed her eyes, focusing on the soothing sound. She fell asleep with the memory of Neville cradling her cheek fresh in her mind, hoping she hadn’t ruined her chance. 


	12. Deserve You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Millie sets Neville straight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Harvest

Neville was in a downright foul mood. He’d never managed to find Luna, and his frustration had only grown worse as the hours ticked by. 

When the incessant chattering became too much, he stormed out of the common room and retreated to the safest place he knew of: the greenhouses. Professor Sprout gave him a pitying look and set him to work in greenhouse three while she continued harvesting bouncing bulbs for the potions master. 

He found comfort in manhandling bags of mulch and wood chips into place, the physical exertion burning through his uncertainty and confusion at Pansy’s odd behavior. The rain that had started that morning still fell steadily, outside, but inside the greenhouse it was humid and warm, and he quickly grew hot. He stripped off his robes and jumper, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt and attacking the mandrake seedlings with renewed vigour. 

With earmuffs firmly in place, he didn’t hear the door open, and when someone touched his shoulder, he reflexively drew his wand and spun to face the new comer. It took him several seconds to realize he was holding his wand to the throat of a professor, with Millie snickering behind him. 

“I told you not to sneak up on him,” she was saying as Neville lowered his wand and ripped off the earmuffs. 

“You good, mate?” Charlie didn’t look upset that he’d just been held at wand point, but then Neville wasn’t sure he’d ever actually seen the man look angry, or even ruffled. He seemed to take everything in stride. 

“Fine. What do you want.” His tone was flat and blunt, but he didn’t have the energy to try to soften it. Instead he tucked his wand away and ignored the pair, turning around and bending over to tear open a fresh bag of mulch. Alow whistle sounded behind him. 

"Okay, I get it. Pans was right." Neville turned to find Charlie giving Millie an exasperated glare, and Millie just shrugged. “What? He’s got a nice arse and I’m  _ trying  _ to do my due diligence and get  _ someone  _ shagged because apparently  _ I’m  _ not going to—“

“Millie, I swear to—“ 

“—Excuse—“

“—Merlin and Morgana I’m—“

“—nobody is shagging—

“—going to fucking—“

Millie held up her hands, silencing both men. “If you,” she pointed at Charlie, “don’t follow that with ‘fuck you,’ I don’t want to hear it. And if you,” she pointed at Neville, “pass up the chance to shag Pansy you’re dumber than I gave you credit for.” 

Neville just blinked at her, dumbfounded. Charlie just seethed quietly, arms crossed over his chest. 

“She won’t even talk to me! I’m not going to  _ touch  _ her let alone—“ he floundered for a moment. Gran would have a fit if she knew half of what was going on in his head at that moment. She’d probably have his balls faster than Pomona could harvest an overripe bouncing bulb, and that thought was enough to make him cringe outwardly. 

“Because she thought you were dating someone else, and she thinks she doesn’t deserve you! Gods you both should have been in Hufflepuff, the way you’re dancing around each other,” Millie spat. “Fucking hell. Get your arse up there and do something about it! If you’re not going to fuck her at least kiss her. She’s going to need something to hang onto tomorrow.” 

Neville didn’t know what tomorrow was, but he didn’t care much. He looked at Charlie, who was watching Millie with an awestruck expression. “Gods you’re sexy when you do that,” he mumbled, and Neville shook his head, grabbing his bag and robes. 

“Just please don’t shag on the table with the mandrakes,” he pleaded before he ducked out the door and into the rain. 


	13. You Wouldn’t Wonder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pansy wakes to a visitor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Candle

It was dark beyond her lids when Pansy woke again, but she could hear a murmuring voice somewhere nearby. Keeping her eyes closed, she tried to focus on what was being said, but the pounding headache kept her from being able to eavesdrop properly. She even missed the creaking of the chair beside her, until something—  _ someone— _ touched her cheek. 

It was a tender touch, as though they thought she was made of the most delicate porcelain. She froze, afraid to even hope that it was who she thought it might be. 

“Pansy?” It was a strained whisper, but she knew the voice. It was  _ his  _ voice. Saying  _ her  _ name.  _ Again.  _ Still, she only cracked her eyes, fearing the searing pain of bright light, or that her broken brain was playing tricks on her.

“Hi.” Light reflected in his eyes, and she blinked, trying to clear the fuzziness from her vision. He wasn’t smiling like that at her, was he? And then her conversation with Millie slowly came back to her. The longer she stared, dumbfounded, the more uncomfortable he appeared, until he withdrew his hand from her pillow. “Sorry, I didn’t—“

“Apologies bore me,” she whispered, and he shifted from looking uncertain to downright confused. 

“I just didn’t mean to take advantage—“

“You didn’t.” The light of the candle floating on her other side made the pounding in her head worse, but she couldn’t look away from his hazel green eyes. His eyebrows drew together, but he didn’t leave, or even lean back away from her. He studied her, and Pansy felt as if he was stripping her bare, layer by layer. It wasn’t so much a battle of wills as it was him picking his way through a garden that was more thorns than roses, and Pansy was just waiting for him to decide it wasn’t worth the effort. 

“I thought Slytherins were supposed to be all about self preservation,” he finally said quietly, the corner of his lip quirking up. “And yet this is at least the second time you’ve ended up in the hospital wing for stepping in front of a wand meant for someone else.” 

Her head spun, and she finally closed her eyes, willing her stomach to settle. Thankfully, it worked better than time than it had with Luna, though she kept her eyes closed against the horrible memories of the previous year. 

“Maybe I’m not cut out for my house,” she whispered, and he chuckled. 

“I said the same thing for seven years, but somehow I don’t believe it’s any more true for you than it was for me.” 

She snorted, but it hurt her head and she winced. 

“Can’t Madame Pomfrey fix it?” He dropped his voice half an octave lower, and Pansy shook her head. 

“Apparently she’s out of the potion and it takes some time to brew. Professor Snape never let her run out but Slughorn…” she trailed off, a bitter taste in her mouth. She cracked her eyes again, and caught the full brunt of his pity. “It’ll be done in the morning. I’ll be okay until then,” she lied. 

“Does anything help? Or make it worse?” Neville fidgeted with the corner of the sheet that had come untucked, and Pansy considered the question for a moment. 

“Too much light or loud noise hurts.”

“Does this help?” He put out the candle and replaced it with a  _ lumos,  _ the light at the tip of his wand dimmer and steady, easing the strain on her eyes. She felt her shoulder relax incrementally, and she nodded gingerly. 

“Thank you.” She hesitated, but went on before she lost her nerve. “Millie said it was you that brought me here.” 

He set his wand on the table beside her, the tip still lit with the soft light. “What else did Millie say?” 

“That I was an idiot.” 

“Hmm. She told me that too.”

“She only calls you an idiot if she likes you.” 

“I’d hate to find out what she calls someone she doesn’t like.” 

“She doesn’t waste her breath.” Pansy cracked a smile at Neville’s answering chuckle, but a wave of nausea a moment later had her clenching her hands around the blanket. With her eyes tightly shut she said a silent prayer to Merlin that she wouldn’t embarrass herself any further. 

And then the blanket was being pried gently from her grip, and was replaced with a hand. A large, calloused but gentle hand. She squeezed it experimentally, and he squeezed back. “I’ve wanted to do this for a while now,” he murmured, and Pansy almost forgot how to breathe. “I’d like it if you’d let me after you’re well, too.” 

She opened her eyes, and the dim light wasn’t as painful as the candle had been. She couldn’t quite read his expression, but her mouth went dry. 

“You don’t want me,” she whispered, and tried to pull her hand free, but Neville didn’t let go. 

“Do you know how hard it was not to lay Rivers out for what he did to you? And do you know the only thing that kept me from it?”

Pansy wasn’t sure how it related, but she shook her head, wincing again at the pain that radiated through her skull with the movement. 

“Needing to know you were okay. And then you wouldn’t wake up and had this awful thought that you weren’t going to wake up and I’d never get to tell you that you were my favorite part of this year.” 

“But I—“

“I thought you should know, so you wouldn’t wonder. I’ll go, if you want me to. But I’d like to stay.” 

  
  



	14. Being Honest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neville and Pansy talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Message

Neville fully believed that waiting for Pansy to answer him was among some of the worst moments of his life, which was quite the feat. But as he looked at her, so pale in the dim light of his wand, he wanted nothing more than to spill every thought he’d had in the last twenty four hours. It was worse than veritaserum. 

And then she looked at him with those blue eyes deeper than the ocean, and asked, “how can you think that?” 

“You’re not what I expected, honestly. But you didn’t look at me like everyone else. And instead of hexing me to hell and back when I invaded your space, you listened, and talked, and then pretty soon every single day I couldn’t wait for the sun to go down so I could sit there with you.” Neville wanted to tell her how gorgeous she looked in the moonlight, and how he watched how elegantly she mastered charm after charm, but he wasn’t sure if it was too much, so he held it in. 

“You’d really want to stay, despite what Theo said?” 

“I don’t care what anyone says anymore,” he said truthfully. “People tend to say things they don’t mean to hurt whoever suits them. I prefer to go by actions.” 

“That…. is very wise,” Pansy said slowly. 

“That’s Luna,” he gave her an almost shy smile, and he saw the flash of apprehension cross her face. “I’m sorry if I—“ his cheeks grew pink, and he looked away. “If I gave you the wrong impression with her. She’s my best friend, but that’s it.” 

He loved Luna, but the thought of dating her was akin to dating a sister. A very cryptic, confusing sister. But he could see how Pansy might not understand that. He spent a lot of time with her because like Pansy and Millie, she didn’t seem to forget Neville was the same person he was before the thing with the snake. 

Pansy cocked her head at him, as if she was trying to see right through him, and he met her eyes, wondering if she would trust him. She wasn’t the trusting type, but he would earn it if she’d let him. 

Whatever conclusion she came to, it seemed to be a good one because her features softened, and she relaxed back into her pillow. Strands of hair were escaping her braid, and he couldn’t stop himself from brushing it out of her eyes. Her eyes followed him closely as he did, but she didn’t object. He trailed his fingers down her temple and was pleased when she closed her eyes and leaned into his touch.  _ Like a cat,  _ he thought. 

“Message received,” she whispered. And then a bit stronger, asked, “What time is it?” 

Neville checked his watch, and was surprised to find it was later than he thought. “Almost nine.” 

Pansy bit her lip, and not for the first time, Neville wondered what it would be like to kiss her. And now it was a possibility, not just a secret fantasy that played out in his head at inopportune times. 

“Do you think Pomfrey would let me out for a bit? If you were with me?” 

“Er… Out? For what?” 

“Last night we missed out on our evening on the balcony. I don’t fancy making it a habit to miss it.” She said it as if it was common sense, that of course she wouldn’t let anything as mundane as a concussion stop her from doing exactly as she pleased. Neville shook his head but smiled. He shouldn’t have been surprised, really. “Don't laugh,” Pansy warned, and Neville shook his head again. 

“I wouldn’t dare. Let me see if I can find Madame Pomfrey and talk her into it.” 


	15. The Way That You See Yourself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pansy lets her guard down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: tea

Pansy couldn’t believe her luck. Apparently  _ Neville Longbottom  _ knew the secret to sweet talking Poppy Pomfrey, because not twenty minutes after proposing her escape plan, she was sitting on the terrace outside of the hospital wing, looking out over the lake. It was a different angle than she was used to after so many nights outside the eighth year common room, but she didn’t care much. 

It was the fact that Neville was sitting beside her and their hands were intertwined like they’d been doing this for ages that really blew her away. Part of her wondered when she’d wake up and find this was all some kind of concussion-induced fever dream. 

“So how’d you do it?” 

“Do what?”

“Convince her to let me out. I thought it was a nearly impossible task and it took you what, five minutes?” The other 15 had been spent by Pansy insisting she was well enough to use the loo without Pomfrey’s assistance. 

“I told her you cried and it would make you feel better.” Pansy’s jaw dropped and Neville laughed. “Kidding. I swear. No, I told her I’d get you to eat something.” Pansy’s glare returned, and he shrugged. 

“She said you haven’t eaten anything other than a bit of toast since you woke up. I hate to break it to you, but that’s not enough and it’ll just make it worse.” She had a hard time being angry at him. If their positions had been reversed, she would have told him the same thing. 

“So what are you going to force feed me?” Her stomach turned at the thought of eating, but she didn’t think she’d get off the hook again. 

“Lola,” Neville called quietly. A house elf, small even for her race, stepped forward from the doorway, carrying a tray. He released her hand to pass her a steaming cup and take one for himself. “Careful, it’s hot.” 

Pansy’s eyes inexplicably watered. This couldn’t be real. She was going to wake up and it would all be gone, like a wisp of smoke in the wind. But when Neville sat back on the bench, he slipped his arm around her back, and it  _ felt  _ real. He felt warm and she could smell something pleasantly earthy through the steaming tea. 

She had to have hit her head harder than she thought if she was getting weepy over something as simple as a warning over hot tea. But it was pushed from her mind when he nudged her insistently to rest against him. She allowed it, if only because when she woke up, she wanted the memory of what it felt like to be held by him. 

“Pansy?” 

“Hmm?” 

“It’s not a dream. I’m going to be back tomorrow. And the next day. And the day after that. I promise I’ll hold you whenever you want.” 

She hadn’t meant to say it out loud. She eyed the tea in her hand. “This isn’t shipsinker tea, is it?” 

“Huh? It’s just earl grey, I dunno what brand they use...” He looked genuinely confused, and Pansy didn’t believe for a second he could lie that easily, so she brushed it off. 

“Nevermind.” 

“Okay. But you can be as weepy as you need, you’ve had a rough go of it. I don’t want you to think some tears will scare me off.” 

_ Would anything scare The General now?  _

Neville chuckled. “That damn nickname. Harry thought it was hilarious that he wasn’t the only one anymore. I get it now. It’s bloody annoying, but I’m still me. It’s rather an odd feeling, everyone expecting something so different from how you see yourself. I don’t feel like I’m a general, let alone  _ The G _ eneral. I haven’t changed. Snape is still a scary sonofabitch that I’d rather not be in the same room with, if that helps. But you’re not going to scare me off easily.” 

Pansy hummed, determined not to let anything else slip. So she sipped her tea and nibbled on a shortbread biscuit, relieved when it didn’t upset her stomach but rather revived her appetite. Neville produced cucumber sandwiches from the tray, and she slowly worked her way through the food and a second cup of tea before she insisted she was full. 

She wasn’t sure how long they sat there in the moonlight, content to let the warming charm, a full stomach, and Neville’s steady, comforting presence and strong arms wrapped around her make her eyes feel heavy until she drifted off again. 


	16. They Don’t Deserve You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neville stops to talk with Hannah

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Broken Heel

Neville carried her back to the hospital wing, and tucked her back into bed under Madame Pomfrey’s watchful eye. She may have been lenient with him to get what she wanted, but once she’d found out Pansy had eaten, he was ejected from the hospital wing. 

“Go to bed, Mr Longbottom, you can come back in the morning, I assure you she’ll be just fine for the remainder of the evening.” Based on her expression, she wasn’t going to bend again, so he squeezed Pansy’s hand one last time and left the hospital wing for the eighth year common room. 

He was lost in his thoughts, thinking he needed to thank Luna and Millie as he walked. He also wanted to ask them if Christmas was too far off to ask her to be his girlfriend. He felt like it was, but he didn’t want to rush and ruin things with her. She was too special to lose. 

He couldn’t help but grin to himself at the memory of her tucked into his side, wondering aloud if he was scared of anything. Honestly he’d been terrified that she secretly hated him, then scared that she wouldn’t wake up, then horrified at the thought that she’d never know how he felt. 

But against all odds, she didn’t hate him, she’d woken up and would be fine, and he’d found the courage to tell her he’d keep going back to her. All in all, he thought it was going well. If he wasn’t so exhausted from the last few days, he’d probably be absolutely _giddy._

Halfway down the fourth floor corridor, he bumped into Hannah Abbott, holding a broken shoe and looking distraught. He was tired and just wanted to go to bed, but he knew Gran would have an absolute fit if he passed a lady in need without at least offering to help. 

“You okay?” 

Hannah looked up with tear-filled eyes, and wiped her tears away, glancing away as if she couldn’t bear to meet his eyes. 

“It’s just— it’s stupid. I’m sorry,” she turned away with a limp, and Neville hurried after her. 

“Wait. Are you hurt?” He shifted his bag on his shoulder, and she slowly turned back to him. 

“I just twisted my ankle when my heel broke. I’m sure I’ll be fine.” 

“Will you at least let me look at it to make sure you won’t do any more damage by walking on it?” Neville had more than a few sprained ankles thanks to all the bloody stairs and uneven floors at Hogwarts, and he knew all too well how uncomfortable it could be. 

“I— are you sure? I don’t want to—“

“It’s fine. Come on.” He directed her to a bench under a wide painting of a garden scene, the young couple that usually graced it off somewhere else, probably somewhere private. She sat gingerly, and Neville inlet in front of her to carefully check her ankle. It wasn’t warm or swollen, and she didn’t seem to be in too much pain as he manipulated the joint. 

“It looks okay, but you might want to wear flat shoes for a few days just in case,” he told her, and she smiled at him, with a look he couldn’t quite decipher in her eye. 

“You’re so sweet, Neville. They really don’t deserve you.” 

“Who?” Neville looked up at her, confused. 

“Loony’s okay I suppose, but the Slytherins? You’re far too good to be wasting your time with them.” 

Neville’s eyebrows drew together. “Millie and Pansy? I’m not too good for them. They’re my friends—“

He didn’t see her wand until it was too late, and she was already whispering, “ _Imperio.”_


	17. My Head Was Underwater

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pansy’s released from the hospital wing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: socks

Pansy gagged on the potion, but swallowed it down anyway. It didn’t matter if it tasted like her brother’s dirty socks if it meant this damned headache would go away and she could go back to classes Monday, and see Neville. 

“I have to drink more of this?” She looked helplessly at Madame Pomfrey, who didn’t appear to be the least bit sympathetic. “It’s awful.” 

“Worse than Skele-gro, from what I heard,” Millie snickered, and Madame Pomfrey snorted. 

“He would know, considering how many times he forgot to right himself from a dive or got in the way of a bludger, or those brothers of his got him involved in some scheme…” She trailed off, arching an eyebrow at Millie, who was staring, open-mouthed and horrified at the matron. “You may shut your mouth Miss Bulstrode, we all know. In fact I believe it was Minerva that started the pool to begin with.” 

She took the empty goblet from Pansy, who was trying extraordinarily hard to keep a straight face while simultaneously trying not to think about the taste of mouldy socks that lingered in the back of her throat. “You may go. Be back here tomorrow morning for the second dose, and do try not to get too worked up. Tell Mr Longbottom he can wait just a bit longer.”    
  
That wiped the smile from Pansy’s face faster than she could have said quidditch, and she and Millie hurried from the hospital wing, pink faced and seething. This early on a Saturday morning, most of the students were still in bed, but Millie dragged Pansy down the first floor corridor and into an office Pansy hadn’t even known was there. 

“THEY ALL KNOW?” Millie wasted absolutely no time yelling at the figure behind the desk. Charlie looked up, though didn’t seem surprised at the rather explosive appearance of his girlfriend and Pansy.

“Who all knows what, love?” 

“All the professors know we’re together!”

“Of course they do. Fil was the one that got me to talk to you in the first place. Then I wasn’t going to risk taking a job that I could lose if they found out. Minerva said it was fine, you’re of age and not one of my students anyway.” 

Millie looked as if she was deflating slowly, and Pansy suddenly had an all new respect for the Weasley. She supposed he was used to working with a cool head under pressure, but it was still impressive to see in action. He was a better match for her than she had first thought. 

“And how are you feeling, Pansy? Poppy put you back to rights?” 

Pansy hadn’t expected him to acknowledge her, let alone inquire after her health, and she hesitated. Millie huffed, and pushed a pile of essays unceremoniously out of her way to sit on his desktop, arms and legs crossed and a rather petulant expression. 

“I’m, uh… slightly better. It doesn’t hurts as bad now, but everything feels a bit fuzzy, like I’m looking through water.” She wrinkled her nose. “That potion is bloody awful though.” 

Charlie laughed. “The fuzziness will go away with the second dose, but that potion is horrible. Have an orange or some orange juice right after you take it. I don’t know what it is about citrus, but it takes the dirty sock taste away immediately. It’s a bloody godsend by the third dose.” 

Pansy nodded slowly. “Thank you,” she said carefully, and he smiled brightly. 

“You bet. I saw Nev heading in for breakfast just as I was leaving too, so you might be able to catch him if you head down to the Great Hall, too.” 

Her heart jumped, and Millie looked smug. “Go on then,” she urged. “He’ll be chuffed to see you looking less… deathly ill.” 

Pansy rolled her eyes. “I’ll just lock it on my way out, shall I?” 

“Thanks, if you would,” Millie called after her, and Pansy shook her head, smiling. She locked the door and threw up a silencing spell for good measure before turning towards the Great Hall. 

The hall wasn’t even half full yes, but her eyes immediately fell to the Gryffindor table, searching him out. He wasn’t there, and she assumed he’d finished and left. That was, until she passed the Hufflepuff table, and there in the middle of the eighth years, sat Neville, his arm around a blonde that Pansy couldn’t stand. 

She froze mid step, confusion flooding through her. He, along with several Hufflepuffs looked around, and not even a flicker of recognition showed in his face. 

“What do you want, Parkinson?” Hannah’s voice was harsh and grating, and for a moment Pansy couldn’t remember why she was in the hall at all. 

“I need an orange.” She arranged her features into a perfect Slytherin mask of disinterest, and flicked her wand. An orange from the bowl in front of Neville zoomed towards her, and she caught it from the air. “Professor Weasley asked for it.” 

With that, she turned on her heel and marched out of the hall, and straight up to her room. 

It had been a dream after all. _Of course it had_. It had been far too good to be true. Still, she’d been so hopeful, and the look of passive indifference might have been worse than hatred. The promise that he’d return to her that her brain had so cruelly gifted her was the tipping point, and tears streamed down her face. Especially after so many nights on the balcony together...

_ Or had that been a dream too?  _

  
  



	18. It's Not True

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neville is trapped

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: incense 
> 
> ***Y'all, he's under the Imperious Curse. Gets a but non-con-esque, but nothing sexual.***

Neville wanted to scream. Wanted to, but couldn’t. The Imperious Curse had him effectively bound and gagged, and there was nothing he could do about it as he watched the confusion in Pansy’s eyes fade to resignation. 

Hannah controlled every movement that she thought might benefit her, and that evidently included his arm around her. He hated every second of it. The way she leaned into him like she belonged there in Pansy’s place, the way she directed him to tighten his hold, the way she smelled like the heavy, cloying incense that reminded him of Professor Trelawney’s classroom. 

He watched her walk away, and his heart crumbled in his chest, leaving an ache that stole his breath. But the witch controlling him gave him no chance to grieve. In the minutes that ticked by his body was forced to go through the movements, to eat and speak to the Hufflepuffs that didn’t seem to notice it wasn’t really him. 

“Come on, Nev. I’m finished.” To everyone else it would have sounded normal, but he only heard the command.  _ Follow.  _

So he did. She twisted her fingers in his, her nails digging into his skin like a predatory bird’s talons in its prey. He was in her grasp and she wasn’t going to release him now. 

Seeing Millie and Charlie emerge from his office sent a jolt of hope through him, but Hannah huffed beside him. And the command came.  _ Ignore them. _ Neville fought the order, but she tightened her grip on his hand, and the pain of her nails cutting in to his skin was enough to distract him. 

“Nev! Where’s Pansy?” He could hear Millie’s confusion, but he couldn’t turn towards her, or even look at her. “Nev? What--”    
  
“He doesn’t want to talk to you,” Hannah spat, and Neville wondered if it stung Millie as much as it stung him. 

“Like hell he doesn’t! Don’t lie to me! Neville what’s going on?” 

Neville still couldn’t look at her, until she grabbed his arm, pulling him roughly to a stop.  _ Tell her you don’t want to talk to her.  _ The command ripped a hole through him, but his body obeyed.

“I don’t want to talk to you.” 

Millie squeezed his arm tighter, and a fire lit in her eyes. He hoped she would see that it wasn’t him, that it wasn’t his choice, but she just released him, looking angry. “What the hell. I thought you were better than that, Longbottom.” She stormed off, and Neville wanted to scream again. He fought Hannah’s hold on his mind, but he couldn’t break through. 

He had never felt so helpless. Not with the Carrows, not in 5 years of potions with Snape, not even when Hermione had put the bodybind on him first year. Nobody seemed to care that he was acting different, and he had the growing dread that nobody would ever find out, and he’d be trapped. 

Despair was beginning to set in, and all he could think was he hoped Pansy knew it wasn’t true. She had to know that she was the only thing that was keeping him sane… 


	19. Felt Like Dying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pansy struggles to cope; reinforcements are called

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Map

Millie found Pansy curled in a ball in bed, a tear soaked pillow held to her chest, the orange she’d taken from the Hufflepuff table forgotten on the floor. 

“Okay. Is this backwards day? I get a shag and come out to Nev with that Hufflefucker acting like a freak, and you’re  _ crying.  _ You didn’t even cry when Draco’s dumbarse got himself Marked. What is going on?” 

”Please don’t.” Pansy’s head ached despite the restorative potion, and she couldn’t take it. His voice was still echoing through her head, “ _ It’s not a dream. I’m going to be back tomorrow. And the next day. And the day after that. I promise I’ll hold you whenever you want.” _

Her mind was cruel for giving that to her, and she was just so tired. She’d thought that maybe Neville would make being her easier, but having him— even a dream version of him— ripped from her grasp was devastating. 

Millie stood in the doorway for a long minute, before muttering something that sounded like “fucking bullshit,” and left, slamming the door behind her. Pansy pulled the covers over her head and closed her eyes, hoping sleep would overtake her. 

She wasn’t lucky enough to escape consciousness, but some indeterminate time later, her door was flung open a second time, and she sighed. 

“Somethings wrong,” Millie announced, and Pansy flung the covers down to glare at her friend. But Millie wasn’t alone.   
  
  
“Hello, Pansy.” Luna had a rather large knitted…  _ something…  _ draped around her neck, and was looking around Pansy’s room with apparent interest. “Millie said we needed to save Neville. I didn’t expect that, I thought you were a rather good match for him.” 

“I-- You--  _ What?”  _ Pansy looked to Millie, who was rolling her eyes. 

“Not from Pansy! From the blonde bitch who has her literal claws in him,” Millie explained, and Luna’s lips formed an “oh.”    


  
“That’s good. I was quite put off that he said he didn’t want to talk to me. He’s always been a very good listener.” Luna was still looking around, and Pansy shared a confused look with Millie. 

“I don’t even know what happened. I’m pretty sure I dreamed that he was there last night. I don’t think it was--” 

“Oh outside the hospital wing? He was there. I saw you on the map.” Luna evidently decided that she was tired of standing, because she lowered herself to the floor where she stood, crossing her legs. 

“I-- What map?” 

  
  
“Oh the one that shows you where everyone is in the castle. I was looking for Harry, but his and Ron’s dots looked busy, so I looked around while I waited. You were there for a long time but your don’t weren’t movijg like Harry and Ron’s. And who’s Lola?” 

Pansy blinked at her. _ Who was Lola _ ? She shook her head. “I don’t-- Wait.” She thought hard, and realized why the name was familiar. “The house elf? Maybe? She brought us tea. Neville seemed--” 

“Lola?” Luna cut Pansy off by summoning the house elf, who appeared with a sharp  _ crack.  _ “Hello Miss Lola. Do you know our friend Neville?” Luna smiled brightly at the elf, who bowed deeply. 

“Lola is knowing Master Longbottom for many years,” the little elf squeaked. “Lola was tasked by Headmaster Dumbledore to look after Master Longbottom. Headmaster Dumbledore was worried He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named would hurt him.” The little elf wrung her hands, and looked pleadingly up at Luna. “Master Longbottom has not been harmed? Lola would be knowing—”

“No, no, he hasn’t been injured. At least we don’t think so,” Millie piped up. “But something is very wrong and we need help.” 

The little elf bowed deeply to Millie, and Pansy watched through a haze as she detailed her plan to the elf. 

The following days were excruciating. Pansy felt as if she died a little more inside every time she passed Neville, always with Hannah, always with his arm securely around her like he’d told her he would do for her. Millie and Luna, surprisingly enough, were her saving graces. Charlie’s advice to eat the orange helped to ensure she got the potion down, but other than that she wasn’t able to eat much. She also spent every evening on the balcony until she couldn’t stand the cold that bit through the warming charms on her cloak that just weren’t as good as Neville’s. 

A week after she woke in the hospital wing, she found herself in the Headmistress’s office, facing everyone that had been involved the night everything had gone wrong. 


	20. Can't Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neville is summoned to the Headmistress's office

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Pensieve

The longer Hannah had control of him, the harder it was to fight her hold on him. It was harder to do anything than just allow her instructions to carry him. Her presence was nearly constant, the stink of her perfume permeated his clothes and his nose, reminding him even when he was alone that his body wasn’t his own. 

He thought of his parents often, wondering if they felt similarly, if a part of their minds were still intact, imprisoned by a body they couldn’t control. When he wasn’t thinking of his parents, he was thinking of Pansy. Hanna purposefully kept him away from her, but he’d spent enough time in the last several months memorizing everything about her that it didn’t matter. 

He could see her lips quirk up when she was pleased with her performance in class, or one of the Ravenclaws shot of a particularly witty insult at one of the Gryffindors, the way she bit her lip when she was concentrating hard, and how she gathered her hair over her left shoulder when she was frustrated. His favorite thing to think about though, was the way she looked in the moonlight, when she’d look at him and forget the walls she thought she had to maintain. The look on her face when he promised her he’d hold her whenever she’d like. 

That was the moment he was thinking of when the command came.    


  
_ Tell him you want me with you.  _ _   
_

_   
_ Neville focused on the world around him as he said the words. Charlie looked unimpressed.    


  
“Sorry Neville. Only you. The Headmistress was clear, she only wants the students that were involved. I don’t recall seeing Miss Abbott there.”    


  
Hannah huffed, glaring at the young professor, but she extracted her nails from Neville’s bicep and gave him another command.  _ Do as they say.  _ _   
_

_   
_ So Neville followed Charlie to the headmistress’s office, where they joined McGonagall, Sprout, Slughorn, Flitwick Pansy, Millie, Theo, Oliver, and oddly enough, Luna. Neville wanted to breathe a sigh of relief to be amongst his friends again, but Hannah’s previous commands to ignore them wouldn’t allow it. So he stood where Charlie told him, and listened to McGonagall explain that each of them were going to extract their memories and view them with McGonagall and their respective House Heads (with Charlie standing in as interim Gryffindor head) to determine what had happened. 

Neville watched as one by one, Theo, Oliver, and Millie extracted silver strands of memory and dropped them into the pensieve. Pansy was the last, and when she resurfaced, tears streamed down her cheeks, and something within Neville roared. He fought harder than ever to break free of Hannah’s curse, but he couldn’t escape it. 

McGonagall motioned him forward, and he stood facing her, Snape’s sneering face peering out of his frame behind her. “Now focus on the memories you wish for us to see,” she directed, and Neville’s heart jumped and his head spun.  _ This was it!  _

With his heart still screaming for Pansy, he focused as hard as he could on the memory of the night with Pansy, from admitting he was still terrified of Snape to putting her to bed, to being ensnared by Hannah. He was doing as he was told. He was focusing on the memory he wanted them to see. What he needed them to see. As his wand came away, he watched the memory float down, and followed McGonagall and Charlie into the swirling grey mist. 


	21. I Don't Want To

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things began to be explained

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Sage Green

Pansy’s ego burned at crying in front of a room full of people, but it would be worth it if Millie’s plan worked. She watched with bated breath. She’d included Neville’s sudden change in behavior in her memories, as had Millie. Now she waited, her nails cutting into her palms. It felt as if they’d been gone longer with Neville than the rest of them, and Luna took her hand, uncurling her fingers and held fast. Tears fell even faster, and she didn’t think she’d ever be able to repay Luna for the kindnesses she’d shown in the last week, not the least of which included long hours of silence waiting for any kind of news from Lola. 

Three figures reformed beside the desk, and Charlie raised his wand. “ _ Incarcerous _ !” 

“Pomona, go fetch Miss Abbott. Do not let her believe anything is amiss! Tell her that Mr Longbottom is asking for her if you must, but  _ do not let your guard down,”  _ McGonagall hissed, and Sprout hurried from the room, despite the look of confusion on her features. Pansy’s mouth hung open, staring at where Neville knelt on the carpet, bound by thick ropes. 

“Charlie!” Millie cried, and Luna grabbed her arm while keeping hold of Pansy, holding her back. 

“Horace, contain Mr Rivers and Mr Nott,” McGonagall continued, paying Millie no mind. “Filius, we need Augusta Longbottom, Kathryn Rivers, and Penelope Nott if you please.” Flitwick disappeared through the floo, and Pansy realized she was shaking when Professor Slughorn bound Theo and Oliver much like Neville was, and Luna squeezed her hand. 

“I told her,” Luna said softly. “I do wish people would listen to me.” Pansy blinked at her, but her attention was pulled back to Neville as Charlie angled himself between Neville and the three girls. 

“Charlie what--” 

  
  
“Millie! Stay  _ back!”  _ Pansy had never heard Charlie speak like that to anyone, let alone to Millie, and Millie stepped back as if she’d been struck. Luna held her hand as well, and together the three of them watch in horror as McGonagall conjured a patronus, speaking clearly to the silver tabby cat that prowled along the edge of her desk. 

“I need immediate assistance, Gawain. I have a student using Unforgivables.” The cat dissolved, and Millie and Pansy shared a wide-eyed look. 

“It wasn’t Neville,” Pansy cried out, and McGonagall looked surprised. “Neville would never--” 

“Silence, Miss Parkinson,” Snape snapped from his frame, and Pansy immediately snapped her mouth shut. “If you would set aside your silly emotions for a moment you would know that someone has him under the Imperious Curse. I taught you better than that.” Pansy stared at her previous House Head, and slowly the pieces fell into place. 

It made sense. The sudden personality changes. The hollowness of his voice and actions. Down to the grey jumper he wore. He preferred the sage green one-- It was softer and he found the green to be calming. He’d told her that once, weeks ago, when she’d complimented the green. She’d liked the way it brought out the green in his eyes... It was his favorite and he hadn’t worn it at all in the past week. 

“We don’t know what orders he’s under, and I can’t risk removing the curse until we have the culprit apprehended,” Charlie explained, his back still to them, his wand trained levelly on Neville. “I don’t want to let him suffer any longer than he already has, but she’ll know.”

Pansy’s sadness faded into anger, and it was only Luna’s steady hand in hers that kept her in place. Millie, on Luna’s other side, was watching the other two boys intently. “One of them is under the curse too, aren’t they?” 

Minerva sighed, a heavy, tired sound. “I suspect so.” 

Pansy’s head was spinning, and she wanted nothing more than to rush to Neville’s side, but Snape was watching her intently, and she steeled herself against the whirlwind of emotions that raged within her.  _ Emotions will be used against you,  _ he’d told her. Now she understood it had been his way of preparing her, but she’d often failed. Fear overriding her sense and shouting to give Potter to the Dark Lord, for instance. She wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice. 

So she grit her teeth and squeezed Luna’s hand, arranging a mask just in time for the flames to flare emerald, and two aurors in scarlet robes to step out, wands in hand. 


	22. What The Hell Did I Do?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannah arrives

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: pet

Charlie and McGonagall had been horrified when they realized what they were seeing, down in the depths of the pensieve. They’d been quick to action, realizing how difficult it had been for Neville to work around his orders. They’d explained they couldn’t remove the curse yet, but that they’d work as quickly as possible. Charlie apologized profusely, and Neville could have cried in relief just to know soon he’d be free. 

So he knelt on the carpet, unable to look at his friends but feeling more hopeful now that he was bound than he had since Hannah had ambushed him. The Aurors appeared, and he recognized them, and thanked his lucky stars. Bernie Savage and Hestia Jones looked carefully around the room, and McGonagall quickly explained the situation.    


  
“I should have known when she was spewing that rubbish about Mills,” Charlie growled, and Millie yelped. 

“What did I do?” 

  
  
“She claimed you were torturing your pet,” McGonagall sighed.

"But my cat's fine!" Millie sounded outraged. "How dare she--"

“We all knew it obviously wasn’t true. Half the times she named were times Charlie confirmed he was with you. We rearranged your rooms and thought that was the end of it.” McGonagall sounded weary and apologetic, and while part of Neville couldn’t blame her, he wished someone would have seen the warning signs. 

“And I told you Ollie was acting strangely,” Luna piped in. Someone-- Probably McGonagall-- sighed heavily again. 

“Yes, it appears Mr Rivers, and potentially Mr Nott, though both are unconfirmed, may be under the curse as well. Though to what end, we still have yet to conclude. I suspect we’ll learn more as soon as Pomona returns.”    


  
Thankfully, they didn’t have to wait long. Neville heard the door creak open, and then Hannah’s indignant cry met Neville’s ears.    


  
“What is the meaning of this? Neville--” Her words were cut off when Hestia hit her with an  _ incarcerous  _ of her own, leaving Hannah bound even more tightly than Neville, based on the blanched skin when the cords wrapped around her arms. She screamed, but the other auror was already administering a clear potion. Veritaserum. 

“What is your name,” Bernie demanded, and Hannah screamed and thrashed on the floor. “Hannah Jane Abbott,” she snarled, and Neville closed his eyes, trying to be patient but wanting to scream himself hoarse. 

“Who do you have under the Imperious Curse?” It was Hestia asking this time, and Neville prayed to every deity he knew of that nobody else was experiencing the same hell he was. 

“Neville Longbottom, Oliver Rivers, and Susan Bones.”    


  
“Pomona, go find Miss Bones. Quickly,” McGonagall urged, and like a cool rush of air, the curse that held Neville captive was removed. He tentatively looked up, and found Charlie watching him closely. It felt as if he was coming up for air after being trapped underwater, and he gasped, before pressing his forehead back into the carpet.    


  
He could hear Bernie and Hestia effectively gagging Hannah to keep her from ordering any of the three of her victims any further until Susan was found and they were sure Neville and Oliver were no longer under the effects of the curse.    


  
“Get these bloody ropes off of me,” he groaned, and the ropes fell away. He sat up as Charlie vanished the ropes, and looked tentatively at where he’d heard Pansy’s voice before. He could see three sets of feet, and the hems of their robes; two in green, one in blue. He was terrified to look into their faces, unsure of what he would find there. 

He squeezed his eyes shut, willing away the tears that had been locked away for the past week not to fall, but he couldn’t stop them, and he couldn’t look at Pansy if she was going to look at him with the same heartbroken expression that he’d glimpsed on her face over the last week. So he sat with his back against McGonagall’s desk, tears falling, eyes closed. After all that, he couldn’t let himself hurt her more. What had they done to deserve the hell they’d been through? 


	23. In Your Arms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pansy and Neville are reunited

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Cedar

Pansy watched Neville sit back, tears streaming down his face, and her own carefully molded mask failed. 

“Neville, please!” Her voice broke, and she choked back a sob. “You promised.” It came out as barely more than a whisper, and she wasn’t even sure if he heard her. But hesitantly, with his eyes still shut, he opened his arms.

Pansy didn’t hesitate, tearing her hand from Luna’s and throwing herself across the space. Charlie barely had time to step out of her way, and then she hit her knees beside him. She threw her arms around his neck and buried her face in his chest. She hadn’t realized how much pain she’d been in until it was gone with his arms firmly around her. 

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, and Pansy shook her head.    
  
  
“Don’t you dare,” she cried, and squeezed him even harder. He didn’t answer, and Pansy didn’t mind. She felt his hand in her hair, and relief trickled through her, warming her and driving away the fear and despair that had settled in her veins like ice. 

She breathed through her nose, the warm, earthy scent familiar and comforting. Cedar. She finally put her finger on it. He smelled like cedar and vanilla, and she was absolutely certain it was the most intoxicating scent known to wizardkind. Her years of tutelage in the language of flowers also reminded her that céder meant  _ I live for thee,  _ and  _ thinking of you _ . It was a symbol of strength, prosperity, and longevity. 

Someone cleared their throat behind them, and Pansy was jerked back from her thoughts of how fitting the scent was for Neville, and begrudgingly loosened her grip on his neck

“I understand you’ve both been through terrible ordeals, but we do have matters to attend to.” McGonagall’s no nonsense tone had Pansy flushing, and she realized she had no idea how long they’d been on the floor. Charlie offered Neville a hand, pulling him to his feet, while Pansy scrambled up rather gracelessly. Neville immediately reached for her and pulled her into his side. Pansy didn’t fight it, but rather molded herself to him. 

She recognized the rather surprised looks she was getting from well,  _ everyone,  _ but she’d deal with the fallout later. For now she just couldn’t let him go. Not again. She breathed in the warm, earthy scent and let it fill her. McGonagall was speaking to the aurors, and Charlie had moved to talk quietly with Millie and Luna, leaving Neville and Pansy in relative privacy. 

“Are you alright?” She whispered it low, concerned as he used his free hand to wipe the tears from his face. 

“I am now.” He took a shaking breath, and tightened his hold on her. “And you? How’s your head? Have you been sleeping? Eating?” 

Pansy couldn’t believe that he’d just been held captive for a week and was so concerned that she’d been eating enough. But then, she really shouldn’t have been surprised. That was part of what made him who he was, and if he hadn’t been so concerned, she might’ve been suspicious that the hufflefucker, as Millie so delicately dubbed her, still had hold of his mind. 

Before she could answer though, the floo roared to life, and her aunt Penelope, Calliope, and an elderly woman wearing an ugly taxidermied hat stepped through. Her stomach sank, and she turned to Neville with wide eyes. 

“I am so sorry.” 


	24. Crying Isn’t Like You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neville gets his first taste of Pansy’s family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Meeting the family

The two witches that had emerged from the fireplace just before his Gran surveyed the room with identical cool gazes. They were obviously sisters, if not twins, but Neville couldn’t place who they were until McGonagall greeted them. 

“Gussy, I think you know Mrs Calliope Parkinson and Mrs Penelope Nott.”

One of the women tutted distastefully. “It’s Avery. I have no desire to be linked with my ex-husband any longer. I’ve urged my son to do the same, but it seems that he’s found other ways to stick it to Pluto.” She arched an eyebrow at Theo, who had taken a seat with his face in his hands, while Oliver cringed away from her.

Augusta made a dissatisfied sound in the back of her throat, turning away from them and peering around the room out from under her oversized hat, the vulture on top trembling precariously. McGonagall opened her mouth to speak, but the other woman, who had thus far been silently appraising Neville and Pansy beat her to it. “It’s not like you to cry, Pansy darling. Surely catching yourself the most eligible bachelor in the place isn’t such a terrible fate.” 

Pansy stiffened at his side, and the name clicked in his mind. Calliope Parkinson. This had to be--

“Are you going to introduce this charming little cinnamon roll to your mother?” It seemed as if the entire room went silent, waiting to see how the scene would play out. Even Hannah had stopped struggling against the two aurors that flanked her, eyes wide and furious. Neville wasn’t sure how he liked being dubbed “a charming little cinnamon roll.” He towered over Pansy and her mother, and he’d long ago lost any excess weight that could be considered a “roll.”

“Neville, this is Calliope. Calliope, this is Neville.” She said it perfectly calmly, and Neville tightened his hold on her, afraid she was going to flee. He’d just been imprisoned in his own mind for a week by a psychotic witch, he could handle meeting her family. 

“Yours got The General, and mine snagged a muggle-born. This is just too fun. Pluto’s going to have a fit!” Theo’s mother, Penelope, giggled gleefully, and Theo peeked through his fingers at his mother. Calliope smiled smugly, turning back to her sister. 

“Bloody Averys,” Augusta muttered darkly, tottering forward. “Neville, get me a chair.” 

He was torn between obeying his grandmother and holding on to Pansy for a moment, and was saved once again by Charlie, who appeared with a chair for her with a charming smile before winking at Neville and returning to McGonagall’s side, though Millie looked as if she was struggling to stay in place, her hand still being held tightly by Luna.

Neville pointedly avoided looking beyond them to the pair of aurors that held Hannah securely between them, instead looking back to where Pansy’s mother and aunt were talking between themselves. Theo was still hiding his face in his hands, and Pansy was stiff as a board in Neville’s arms. 

“It’s okay,” he whispered, and she pressed into his side ever so slightly. 

“They haven’t gotten started yet. Just wait,” she whispered back. Neville didn’t think that they could do anything too bad, so he stayed quiet. McGonagall was speaking in low tones to Charlie, and Neville relaxed incrementally as the minutes ticked by. 

“You get her for Christmas, we get him for the New Years ball.” Calliope was facing his grandmother, and Neville wasn’t sure who she was talking about until Augusta cocked her head, and scoffed. 

“If I get them for Christmas that means I have them from the time they step off the train til they leave for the ball. And then they come back.” 

Calliope sniffed, but Penelope elbowed her, and she bobbed her head once. “Fine.” 

“That one too,” Augusta nodded towards Theo, and Penelope’s lips curved into a gleeful smile. 

“If you’re finished with the custody agreements, can we get to the actual reason you’re here?” McGonagall sounded weary, and Augusta flicked her hand at her as if to say, “get on with it,” and Neville was left reeling with the realization his gran and Pansy’s mother had just arranged their plans for the hols  _ for them _ . And unless he misunderstood, Pansy would be coming to the Longbottom family seat rather than home to her family, and he hadn’t even kissed her yet. 

Maybe Pansy had been right to be wary. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is no controlling Calliope. That was not the plan but here we are.


	25. Make Me Laugh

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pansy gets a laugh out of the most unexpected person possible

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: paint

Mortified. Absolutely mortified didn’t even begin to cover her embarrassment at her mother’s behaviour. She snuck a glance at Neville, who appeared to be a little shell shocked, but otherwise intact. 

Beyond him though, Snape was watching the proceedings with a vaguely amused expression. She glared at him, but it was about as effective as attempting to drown a fish. 

She turned her attention back to McGonagall, who was explaining to the assembled parents that the hufflefucker had cursed Theo, Neville, and probably the nicest person Pansy had ever met, not that she would admit that to her face. 

“But why?” Predictably, it was Aunt Penelope that asked the question that was plaguing them all. Collectively they looked at Hannah, still bound and gagged. 

“Why did you curse them,” Savage repeated, and Pansy could tell from the look on her face that she was fighting the veritaserum. 

“I wanted to get rid of the Slytherin traitors,” she spat, her face turning red and blotchy. 

“How would Sue help with that?” Millie was still being held in play by Luna, but Pansy was relatively certain it wouldn’t last much longer if the hufflefucker said anything else. 

“Everyone listens to her! Once Neville was mine she would have made everyone believe we were perfect and that bitch,” she jerked her chin at Pansy, “was trying to ruin it!” 

Neville angled himself between her and the unhinged witch, but Pansy was seeing red. 

“What did I have to do with it?” Oliver spoke up for the first time since McGonagall lifted the curse on him, and he looked like he was trying not to be ill on the rug. 

“You were supposed to kill them and you were too incompetent to even do that!” Hannah struggled against her bonds again, and Pansy snapped. She ripped herself from Neville’s hold and threw herself across the space; she stopped short of the blonde, keeping her hands on her hips, face to face. 

“You’re going to Azkaban for what you did and I hope you rot.” Pansy didn’t flinch away when Hannah fought the aurors, just stared her down in disgust. 

“He deserves better than you, you t—“ Hannah never got to finish what she thought of Pansy, because Pansy punched her square in the nose. Cartilage crunched and hot blood spurted from her nose, and Pansy stepped back, cradling her hand. 

The room was silent until a rumbling laugh echoed through the room. Pansy looked back over her shoulder to find the painting of none other than Severus Snape laughing, and Dumbledore’s portrait chuckling alongside it. 

Neville looked positively horrified, and McGonagall was looking distinctly disapproving, while Augusta Longbottom was eyeing her with an expression she couldn’t decipher. Calliope arched an eyebrow at her, and Luna was smiling benignly at Millie’s silent giggles that had her doubled over. 

Pansy ignored the sputtering girl behind her, and returned to Neville’s side. He was still gaping at the portrait of Snape, and she nudged herself back under his arm. “It’s not really him. It’s just paint.” 

“I don’t think the real one knew how to laugh,” he whispered back, and Pansy reached for his hand, cringing when she saw the blood on her own. Charlie stepped forward, and healed it with a prod of his wand. 

“Am I going to get detention for that?” She kept her eyes on Charlie, but knew the headmistress was staring a hole through her soul. 

“Certainly not,” Augusta spoke up. “I didn’t see anything amiss, did you ladies?” 

“We didn’t see a thing,” Calliope said with an approving smirk at Pansy. For the first time in a long time, Pansy felt a surge of affection for the woman that had raised her. 

Millie was still gasping on Luna’s arm, and Neville folded his arms around her. 

“I think you have enough, and I do believe the students would be better served by their peers than us,” Augusta continued. “If you need anything additional from them, I believe a later time when they’ve had some time to recover.” 

McGonagall nodded curtly. “Mrs Longbottom is, as usual, correct. Constables if you could kindly remove Miss Abbott, the rest of you are dismissed. We’ll facilitate times for each of you to give full statements to the aurors in due time.” 

Pansy, along with the others, didn’t waste any time escaping the Headmistress’s tower office. 


	26. I Didn't Mean To

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Sugared Violets

Neville couldn’t remember a time that he’d been more grateful to his grandmother for being a veritable force of nature, especially considering he was relatively sure it was Penelope to call out, “don’t forget your contraceptive potions,” as they retreated from the office. At the foot of the stairs, he stepped aside, and pulled Pansy into what probably amounted to an excessively tight hug, but she hugged him back just as fiercely. 

“Look I know you’re all having withdrawals or whatever but my boyfriends still up— OKAY SERIOUSLY?” Millie screeched, and Neville twisted around to find Theo and Oliver even more tightly intertwined than he and Pansy, and were reacquainting themselves with each other's tonsils, while Millie rolled her eyes and Luna politely averted her gaze.

“—so sorry,” Theo was saying between kisses, his voice overlapping with Oliver’s. 

“—couldn’t get free—“

“—should have known—“

“—didn’t want to—“

“Guys!” Millie snapped to get their attention, waiting until they looked at her. “Get a room.” 

Theo and Oliver shared a look, and Oliver stepped away, holding Theo’s hand tightly, and looked at Pansy with a sorrowful expression. 

“I didn’t mean to hurt you. Either of you. I never would have raised my wand if she—“ his voice cracked, and he dropped his eyes and cleared his throat. 

“Ollie they don’t blame you. Hannah cursed you. It wasn’t you, it was her.” Luna patted his arm, and drifted past them in the direction of the eighth year common room, catching Millie by the elbow. “We really should find Susan, I think she could use a friend.” 

Neville caught Oliver’s eye and shrugged. “She’s right.” 

His eyes flicked to Pansy, and she arched an eyebrow at him. “Do it again, cursed or not, and I’ll have your bullocks.” All three men cringed, and she smiled sweetly. “Now go treat Theo right and have fun.” She made a “shoo”ing motion with a flick of her wrist, and Theo dragged Oliver off by his elbow. Neville thought that was probably the best course of action, given that he still wasn’t entirely sure what Pansy was capable of. 

But she turned back to him, and he witnessed what he was relatively certain equated to a small miracle. Pansy’s eyes softened, and she moved closer, smoothing her hands over his chest. Neville cupped her elbows in his hands, relieved to feel her against him again. “Are you truly alright?” Her deep blue eyes searched his face, and a lump formed in his throat. 

It took him several swallows to clear it enough to croak out a yes, and Pansy snaked her arms around him, hugging him tightly. He returned the fierce hug, one hand on her back, the other in her sweet-smelling hair. “I was so afraid I’d lost you,” he admitted, and Pansy shook her head against his shoulder. 

“We had a plan, going in there today. Lola’s been following you since the day I was released from hospital. We knew something was wrong and we weren’t going to let it go on.” Pansy’s voice was rough now, and Neville didn’t want to let her go. “Come on. You’re probably starving, and I haven’t eaten properly in days.” Her arms loosened around him, and he reluctantly released her. 

She slid her hand into his, tangling their fingers together, and Neville sighed in relief. He’d been afraid it would remind him of Hannah’s death grip, but her hand was smaller, warmer, and fit like Hannah’s never had. She led him through the halls, and Neville was content to let her take him wherever she pleased. Rather anticlimactically, they ended up in the kitchens, with Lola bouncing happily at their feet. 

“Master Longbottom is well again, then?” Her squeaky voice managed to carry over the commotion behind her, and Neville felt his heart swell when Pansy wrapped her free hand around his bicep and nodded at the house elf. 

“He’s better now, thanks to you, Lola. But neither of us have eaten, can you--” She didn’t even manage to finish the question before the tiny elf was barking orders at some of the elves around her. She motioned them over to sit at a small table near the fire, and Pansy pulled him towards it, sitting beside him rather than across from him. They were served hearty helpings of stew, fresh rolls, and to finish it off, pretty lemon tarts with sugared violets on the top.

By the end of their meal, Neville was full and sleepy, the mental exhaustion of the ordeal crashing over him like waves on the coast. Pansy seemed to understand, because she stood slowly, reaching for his hand. 

When he hesitated, she stepped closer. Sitting as he was, she could look him in the face, which she took full advantage of, cupping his face with both hands. 

“The worst is over.” He dropped his eyes, afraid she’d see the doubt that lurked there, but she tipped his head back, and kissed him gently. His hands found her waist, pulling her closer. Her lips were just as soft as he’d imagined, and he lost himself in the taste of lemons and sugared violets on her tongue. Her fingers worked through his hair, and for several blissful moments, he forgot about the hell he’d been living, forgot about the castle above them, and the only thought on his mind left was the sweet witch that engulfed him. 


	27. Waiting For Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Sunrise

Pansy woke before the sun the next morning, her heart pounding. She pulled her dressing gown over her pyjamas, and tiptoed out to the balcony that overlooked the lake. She started when she peered through the darkness, and realized she wasn’t alone. 

“Can’t sleep, or were you waiting for me?” Her whispered question cut through the quiet of the pre-dawn morning, and Neville’s wand came up, pointing straight at her heart. She lit the tip of her own, the light bathing them in soft golden light. He lowered his wand slowly, and she could see his hand shake. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t--” 

“Apologies bore me, you know that?” She extinguished her wand tip, and moved closer. “I didn’t mean to startle you, but there’s no reason to apologise. I understand.” He opened his arms, and she slid into his lap, the wash of warmth coming a moment later. 

“I missed that,” she told him, laying her head against his shoulder. “Mine just weren’t good enough after yours… But I came out every single night, hoping that somehow you’d get away and know I was waiting for you.” Her chest ached at the very memory, but it was eased by his arms that held her close. 

His chin came to rest on the top of her head, and she sighed. “I missed you so much it hurt.” She let the sentiment hang in the air between them, content to just be held by him. 

“You were the only thing that kept me going. I didn’t know if I’d ever escape her, but I hoped…” He cleared his throat roughly. “I hoped you’d be waiting for me. It killed me to hurt you, but I just--” 

“I know,” she whispered. “I know it wasn’t you. You have nothing to be sorry for, nothing to feel guilty over.” She reached up and buried her fingers in the thick hair just above the nape of his neck, closing her eyes and letting the feeling of him surrounding her calm her.

She didn’t know how long they sat there in the cold morning, but she didn’t care, either. As the sky began to lighten, fading from black to purple to pink and gold, she was glad for these quiet moments before they returned to class after the news of Hannah’s crimes had gotten out. The sky was bright blue when she kissed his cheek and whispered that they needed to get to class, and Neville slowly let his hands fall away. 

“Will you promise me something?” She didn’t move from his lap, just studied his eyes in the morning light. A plan formed in her mind, and she hoped it would help them both.

“What’s that?” Neville met her eyes, and she could have jumped for joy at seeing his beautiful hazel eyes again. 

“Wait for me here after dinner? I want to try something.” 

Neville arched an eyebrow, but nodded. “I can do that.” 

“Good.” She kissed him softly, and again for good measure. “I’ll see you in Charms.” 


End file.
